Three Wishes
by HolyMaiden24
Summary: An Aladdin inspired story in which Christine is a diamond in the rough at the opera and becomes the mistress to a mysterious and masked jinn. (Takes nods to novel and ALW musical/2015 tour production. There's a chance of E/C, but I'll try to make it Raoul friendly.)
1. A diamond in the rough

EDIT: I am starting the process of going back and editing the chapters, before I release chapter 9. You guys deserve a better quality of editing in a story, and editing/catching errors is my biggest weakness when it comes to writing.

 **After seeing Phantom of the Opera in San Francisco for my birthday- not just my first time of seeing this wonderful story live, but my first time also seeing the re-created tour production with Chris Mann and Katie Travis in the production- I thought I'd finally stop putting this idea off. (Though my Legend of Zelda fan fic readers are probably going to be angry at me. If you are reading this, please don't kill me.)**

 **I liked the idea of an Aladdin-esque tale for our beloved characters, and while some inspiration comes through the Disney incarnation, I promise that there will be absolutely none of the pop-culture, pun-making, celebrity-mocking showmanship that the late and great Robin Williams created.**

 **This version will take nods mostly from the book and musical-** _ **especially**_ **the remimagined show that I have seen. This version of Erik's disfigurement will also take those same combined nods: when I say combined nods, I mean that it** _ **will**_ **involve the half mask, but ...well, you'll see.**

 **Finally, I will sort of have the tour production cast in mind as I write this, but you are free to choose your own version and forsake my own.**

* * *

Chapter 1: Diamond in the Rough.

Imagine, if you can, a winding staircase against stone walls, with no means of safety to keep you from falling off to possible doom. Imagine that this stairway lead up to the walkways and tunnels that are hidden among the Paris Opera house, but that you needed to hold onto the bannister built onto the seemingly ancient stone wall.

Imagine a man practically holding his back to the banister and gripping it with both hands as his life depended on it while keeping an eye on the walkways with banisters on both sides and a doorframe that lead to safety.

This exotic middle aged man with eyes of jade and an astrakhan cap on his head was steadily walking up the steps. He was not a man to be sacred so easily, though this unusual set of stairs was trying his nerves. He was only halfway up when suddenly he hesitated. He reached into his bag that went around his body and dug around it before touching an object inside it. It's presence both reassured him, and yet it didn't.

"You are more trouble than you are worth, you know that!" He cursed to the object, before resuming his accession to safety.

When he finally reached the top, he took a moment to take a breath, before taking the object out to get a good look at it.

It was a bottle that was mostly black, but the round, wide part was inlaid in a pattern of blood red rubies and faint, pale grey gems. There were also gold markings that covered the narrow end of the bottle and a stopper that was made of an almost navy blue stone, but there was a strange piece of wrinkled paper stuck upon the bottle, with a sort of ward that appeared hastily written in the man's native language.

The man stared at the bottle in silent awe.

"Should they shine white with light, may they be pure of heart with Allah's graces." The man spoke to the bottle as if reciting something... though he was unaware of a menacing figure covered from head to foot in a black veil and a small hat as he approached him from behind. "Should they be black as the deep night, may they be wicked of heart, with sinister traces."

It was then that the veiled man- the shade- grabbed the other man's arm.

In fright, the man turned around to face his captor and loosened his grip on the bottle. He realized all too late that the bottle fell out of his hand and not only rolled off the safety of the walkway and onto one of the stair steps below, but it also rolled of the step and into the darkness below.

"NO!" The man yelled in horror, but the shade promptly dragged the man off, with little resistance of the man's part as he strained his ears to hear if the bottle would break.

And then he heard it- the sound of someone yelling out in panic, followed by glass shattering into pieces.

He might as well have committed murder when he heard that sound. A part of him was struck with a great fear, while the other part felt as if a great weight had been taken from his chest and he couldn't tell if it was a blessing or an insult.

 _Allah have mercy on me._ This man prayed from the depth of his heart as he was taken away.

* * *

High from above the darkness of the cellars, the opera was due to perform it's final performance of _Faust_ with Juliette Vargas as Marguerite, before her contract was up tonight. The same was sadly said of Carolus Fonta: the lead tenor and current Faust of the show itself.

The lovely Juliette Vargas was rehearsing the jewel song, in order to ensure that her last performance would be spectacular, and many had their eyes upon her. One in particular was Christine- a particular brunette with a face as youthful and pleasing as an idyllic spring day- and while she listened to the soprano's voice, it left her heart with empty longing.

"I heard that the new soprano is going to be very talented." Meg- her strawberry-blonde haired companion and fellow ballerina told her. "Talented, but with a temper to be feared: a real Prima Donna."

The brunette laughed. I hope she doesn't expect us to clear the stage a good hundred feet away from her."

"And where will the chorus and ballet go?" The blonde joined in the laughter. "Will we be pushed against the back walls of the backstage?"

Christine returned her attention back to the stage.

"You know, I heard that Vivian has fallen ill and we need a new Sybil." Meg gently reminded Christine. "Perhaps you could try to go on up and volunteer on her part, before another takes that chance."

Christine faltered at this. "I...I can't."

"Christine!" Meg pleaded. "You have a wonderful voice, and it's time to put it to use! Why wait any longer?"

"I... it's been so long since I've sang by myself in front of everyone." Christine nervously reached for the locket around her neck and caressed it. "Ever since father died-"

There was a time when she once dreamt of being on stage, and singing her heart out to many people. There was a time when she never considered that dream when she traveled with her father on the road and they were practically penniless. When Gustave Daae caught the attention of a certain Professor Valerius (god rest that man's soul), he helped sponsor the man until Gustave Daae could not only support himself and his daughter, but attracted a modest fame as a wondrous violinist. With the support of Professor Valerius, his wife, and the money that her father gained, Christine was able to finally enter a prestigious conservatory, to make her voice as grand as her father hoped it would become.

It was as if the legendary Angel of Music had finally granted Christine his blessings at last.

But then consumption had fallen upon the honorable, much loved Gustave Daae, and he died, leaving his daughter almost entirely alone in the world.

In her state of grief, Christine's love for music died, as did her chances of excelling and the conservatory, which lead to her being released. The poor girl would have been homeless (as by then, the widow Valerius had died all too soon.) had not Madame Giry took pity on the girl and tried to raise her amongst the aspiring ballerinas.

Thanks to encouragement from both Madame Giry and Meg (though there was quite a talk from the fear inspiring Madame for Christine to either face the world or be prepared to be thrown out without any other trade to her name), Christine was able to flourish once more.

But without the necessary training, Christine would forever be a part of the chorus, and amongst the ballerinas- her voice would give the chorus strength, but it would not soar out as it was hoped for.

Christine shook her head and forced a smile as she grabbed Meg's hand. "Come on, I don't want to overindulge on _Faust_. Let's go find something to do elsewhere."

Meg was more than fine with this, as she not only felt the same, but she hoped to avoid her mother for a time.

And so, the young women respectfully explored their grande castle- that beautiful Opera House, where fantasy and reality was divided by an orchestra pit and many lights.

As the two explored, they heard the prideful tones of a certain Prima Ballerina as she conversed with what was assumed to be one of her many 'patrons'.

"You are a very cold man, Comte." She pouted.

"Sorelli, my jewel, you know that I am not one to be tied down, and neither are you. Is it not better to take a break once in awhile, before we reunite once more?"

Christine and Meg saw Sorelli talk with a handsome man in his late thirties. He had a very unique face that struck a familiarity in Christine's mind. Didn't a younger, warmer version of that face dance around in her fondest of memories, and was normally joined with a scarf, a sea, and days of storytelling?

"Phillippe, your positively horrendous!" Sorelli angrily spun on her heels and firmly crossed her arms together. This only made the man laughed. "Tis better than being called a sweetheart, mademoiselle."

"Go away de Chagny!" Sorelli scowled. "I shan't speak to you ever again, so long as I breathe!"

Chirstine gasped. Of course! Now she knew why this man looked familiar- she was friends with his brother, who was almost twenty years younger than him (or so she supposed.)

"Monsieur, wait!" Christine hurried ahead and threw a hand out as he walked away, while memories of the past filled her mind. "I know your brother!" She called out, but the man's laughter was so wild that he couldn't hear her over it.

Sorelli scowled at Christine. "And _how_ do you know his brother?" She gave Christine a suspicious eye. "Are you also a victim of his selfish whims?"

Christine flinched at the meaning of the accusation, knowing full well what Sorelli and Phillippe's relationship was supposedly like. "No." She was not amused by this. "I'm a childhood friend of the Vicomte de Chagny."

Sorelli let out a peeling laughter. "A childhood friend, she says!" She smirked at Christine. "Listen, my dear. We may be performers, but I am afraid that we will only be seen by the outside world as a way to pass the time. You may as well be a common street rat to the younger brother!"

A pang of hurt and anger crossed through Christine and she tried her hardest not to yell out in anger at such an accusation- one that was especially not true.

"She won't be common!" Meg fiercely protested as she stood next to her friend. "One day, she will be lead soprano, and I shall be the Prima Ballerina! We will stand amongst the upper class and show them we are more than performers!"

Sorelli merely shook her head and walked away. "For as long as we put on an act for our patrons, we will never truly be able to walk amongst the outside world." She cautioned. "You will soon see, my dears!"

* * *

Christine stared out into the Parisian sky on the rooftops of the Opera, under the protection of Apollo and his lyre.

"A common street rat?" Christine wondered aloud as she opened the silver locket around her neck up to reveal the serious, yet loving face of Gustave Daae. "Was I really just that to Raoul in those days?"

She missed Raoul. The two met when he fetched her scarf from the sea, one day, and they almost became inseparable. Sure, the boy was prone to whining at his worst, but he always looked out for her, and he at least tried to take violin lessons from her father in order to understand her love of music.

And yet, they were of different worlds. He was the brother of Comte Philippe, a son of the upper class, and he was due to return to his studies for a future career out at the sea (Many jokes were made about this. Him? A sailor? Amusing, but believable.) and thinking about them made Christine long for those days again.

But back then, her father was slowly gaining his reputation in France. They might as well have still been street performers in the eyes of the de Chagny family and even now Christine could recall some entertained whispers of future scandal between the Vicomte and the violinist's daughter.

She missed those days when life was simple, when death was just a rumor, and social status was a barrier that didn't exist.

Christine still longed for her father, and for that passion to sing to return, but she just couldn't find it in herself anymore.

"I'm sorry." She sighed as she gazed at her father in her locket. "I wish I found the strength within me- I wish I could have said good-bye, but sometimes I just can't. I wish I could have made you proud of me... but now I'm living only half a life."

"I don't know what to do from here on out." Christine continued. "Should I even stay with the Opera, or seek a life elsewhere..." Somewhere away from anything that could cause her to feel pain and empty for not simply being good enough, and not reaching her potential. There was no way she would be accepted back into the conservatory anymore.

She missed the joys of passion: the feeling of being lifted into the air whenever she sang her heart out. She used to feel like she could be taken away and nothing else would matter, as if she had sprouted wings.

"If there is an Angel of Music like you promised me," Christine quietly spoke. "The Angel of Music you promised you would send when you are in heaven..."

There was a time when she believed in the Angel of Music with all of her heart: that he would appear to inspire her with his might and bequeath to her the ability to bring heaven to her fellow men with her song.

Instead, he became a fairy tale that died with her father. If she had retained what could have been her last hope- to believe in something after the nightmares- maybe she could have been the lead soprano instead of Juliette and traveled the world to gift it with her voice. Instead, she was only a chorus girl and ballerina who barely stood out, and the Angel of Music still hadn't shown to bring down his glory, which almost ruined whatever faith Christine had in her father and in the idea of a heaven.

Maybe one day, things would change. Maybe she would be able to find that joy again. One day she would find the strength to control her destiny, instead of moping like a jealous, angry child.

She closed the locket and made to leave- she might be jealous of Juliette, but the woman was amazingly patient to the point of being a virtue, and Christine owed her a contribution to a spectacular final performance.

* * *

Juliette and Fonta gave a splendid performance on their final night. The cheers for their glory was mixed with the cries of sorrow for their departure, and it felt as if an era in the theater had ended.

If only Christine could feel the same way to La Carlotta as she did for Juliette.

In the time of rehearsals for the next opera, it became clear that the beautiful woman was talented, but with it came a haughtiness and a temper that was to be feared. If one got on the wrong side of her, it was expected that the woman would erupt in a great fire. In fact, she shouted at a chorus woman who accidentally bumped into her as she tried to sing her part, while the others had to move around her during the scene in the town.

Also, she loved to show off, which showed as her voice had beauty, but no soul. Her Marguerite was less innocent and more materialistic.

The new tenor- Ubaldo Piangi- seemed to be Carlotta's lover, as she had far more patience with him. The man himself was talented, though his Italian accent was heavy in his voice and his pronunciations of the words, which caused grief to Reyer as he tried to get rehearsals underway.

All in all, it was another hectic day in the life of the Opera.

"I can only imagine the quarrel our new soprano and mama would get into in the future." Meg giggled as the girls changed out of their practice costumes for the next show. "It would be like fire against the snow- will the ice melt, or will the fire die?"

"Imagine La Sorelli being friends with Carlotta." Christine pointed out.

Both girls shuddered.

Christine finally took her costume off, and put on a simple dress, while Meg tied her black shawl over her shoulders after getting back into her ballet attire. She reached for her locket- which had been safely kept by her sheet music- when a slender hand snatched it up.

Christine looked in alarm to see that the thief was none other than Cecile Jammes and the ballerina was giving the locket a smug look as she held it up high in the air.

"It appears that our Christine wears a locket!" Jammes spoke loudly for all the chrous girls and ballerinas to hear. "Who knew that our girl had a prince hiding away from us!"

Concern for the locket that contained a picture of her father filled Christine's mind. "Give that back." She held her hand out and walked to Jammes. "Please, Jammes!"

Jammes moved her hand back and stuck her tongue out. "Catch me first!" And she ran off like a jack rabbit.

"Give that back!" Christine yelled as she immediately ran off after the girl.

"JAMMES!" Meg yelled as Christine was forced to follow after the ballerina. Meg followed suit- as did a few curious girls who wanted to see how this excitement would turn out.

Christine hurried after Jammes as fast as her feet could carry her, but the much better trained James was faster than her. The girl lead her through the backstage, through corridors, and began to descend down the stairs and into the cellars of the Opera House.

"Jammes, the man in the locket isn't my lover!" Christine cried out as the girl practically danced though the cellars, and through the props that were tucked away.

"And yet you wear it so dearly to your chest!" Jammes taunted.

The chase continued, and Christine had lost her patience. Finally, Jammes lead her to a walkway where the winding staircase with only one banister lead to the unknown darkness of the lower cellars.

"He must be important if you were willing to follow me so far down!" Jammes giggled as she stopped by one of the banisters on the walkway and began to open the locket.

"It's my father's picture!" Christine almost screamed out.

Jammes glanced up in confusion, and Christine tried to stop herself from running, but it was too late. Christine crashed into Jammes, and the girl's arms flew back, as did the locket.

And Christine was forced to watch in horror as the locket soared out in a perfect arc, before it feel far out beyond the staircase, and into the unknown darkness of the lower cellars of the opera.

* * *

 **I swear, I didn't realize the 'Proud of your boy' parallel until AFTER I wrote that part on the rooftop.**

 **The staircase is based off the one from the tour production- it twists out of the stage, and the actors perform on it during the title number. It's my favorite part of the set and I recommend looking it up. :) The locket was also from the same production (though I would find it incredibly sweet if they allowed Katie Travis to put a picture of a beloved family member in there during the production.)**


	2. A labyrinth of not so wonderful wonders

**I admit I'm jumping the gun on this, but I did make this chapter ahead of schedule so...**

 **2: There seems to be some fun from an Aladdin inspired idea, and I hope to include inspiration from the original tale somehow. Erik** _ **would**_ **have fit the role too (what with the constant lying and a certain desire), but your right about the parallels to Christine. Plus, in a way, Phantom of the Opera dealt with Christine regaining her passion and finding strength within her to do things that would be pretty hard to do in real life (including moving on from her father's memory.)**

 **Guest: I checked it out and realized I read it before. It's pretty good, but I didn't remember it's title so... I feel embarrassed for my lack of originality.**

* * *

Chapter 2: A labyrinth of not so wonderful wonders

Christine continued to stare down into the darkness of the underworld of the Opera in a moment of silence, as the knowledge that her locket had fallen down there began to sink in.

There was not many pictures of her father, and she cherished that very image of him!Christine gritted her teeth as she turned to face Jammes, who realized the impending doom at hand. "That was my father's picture!" She snapped as anger and heart break were in perfect harmony inside her being. "Why couldn't you leave it be?!"

At this point, Meg had finally caught up to Christine and had heard every word of this. The rest of the girls had followed suit and stopped to catch their breaths, before the drama could continue to unfold.

"I... I'm sorry." Jammes stammered.

"Where's a lantern?!" Christine turned and demanded to the other girls. "Give me a lantern, now!"

Meg gasped when she realized what Christine was about to do. "You can't go down there by yourself! The cellars are five levels down! Not to mention the stories behind them, and how they used to be a prison during the war!"

"I am going down there, whether anyone likes it or not!" Christine declared as she looked around before one of the kinder girls held a lantern out, along with a set of matches.

"It's pitch black!" One of the girls protested as Christine quickly lit the lantern, while forcing Jammes to hold it for her. "It's scary down there!"

"I'm not afraid." Christine cooly told them after she grabbed the lantern from Jammes hands. After her father died, she lost some of her ability to fear and she almost accepted the unknown in her time of mourning. It gave her courage where she probably least needed it, and this was to be one of those cases.

"Let me go with you." Meg offered as Christine began to walk down the stairs, while keeping a hand on the railings of the wall for safety. "You will need an extra set of eyes."

Christine paused as she looked down into the darkness: without a second set of railings, the wrong move would send her down to a nasty end. Why they never fixed this problem was beyond her.

Christine took a deep breath to steady her nerves for the search ahead and gave Meg a small smile. "Thank you." She then turned, grabbed a handful of her dress so that she wouldn't trip on it on accident, and began her journey.

"Be careful!" One of the girls called out to the two as they descended into the unknown.

* * *

Christine had made a guess as to where the locket went, based off where it dropped, and she was hopeful that she would find it. Unfortunately, to her dismay, the locket had appeared to have fallen through a huge gap between the wood floors, which meant that another level had to be searched. Just to be safe though, the two looked around for the locket, before they could descend down to the next level.

Curiously enough, they found the shattered remains of what appeared to have been a glass bottle that once contained some sort of ale or tonic: the stains of it's contents were still dark against the ground.

"I heard that one of the stage hands complained that something almost hit him on the head from up above a few days ago." Meg told Christine before she glanced over her shoulder.

"They say that there are workers who tend to boiler rooms down below, and it looks like they are tending to the pits of hell." Meg nervously spoke to Christine as they continued to look. "They also say that there is a man tasked with finding any trouble makers or suspicious people, before sending them back up, but no one knows what he looks like." Unlike Christine, Meg was more uncomfortable about being down in the cellars. It was true that she was more outgoing and willing to explore, but her curiosity had it's own limits.

Christine only continued to look around for the familiar object: could it's silver brilliance call out to her through the light of the lantern?

The girls descended down another level. It gradually became darker and darker, and the girls were becoming extremely reliant on the lantern in order to see where they were going.

Suddenly, the girls heard a strange noise- it sounded like something clicking against the wood.

Several somethings clicking against the wood, and making high pitched noises.

The girls turned around to see, coming at them, a fire floating mid air within the dark. The fire was quickly approaching them, as did the horrid noises, which grew louder in pitch, until the two girls could make out what appeared to be a head in the fire, with a beard and eyebrows blazing in yellows and oranges.

Meg automatically reached for Christine's hand, and she responded in turn. "Wh-what is that?!" Christine asked. Instead, Meg pulled Christine away and ran as fast as she could, while the brown haired girl had no choice but to follow suit.

Suddenly, there was a movement that brushed against them, and they could feel- to their disgust- what felt like tens of hundreds of tiny feet, legs, and furry bodies with thick whip like tails brush against their feet and legs. Christine's floor length skirts barely blocked out these horrid intruders, while poor Meg felt the full force of them, and she let out a cry of protest. Both of them hurriedly moved to the side, away from the furry stampede, as a voice cried out "Let me pass! I am the rat catcher! Let me pass with my rats!"

Christine glanced in shock at the head of fire as he then practically flew between the girls. She could now see the head bobbing up and down, and she could make out the outlines of the man's back as he passed between them.

Finally, the feeling of vermin against their feet and ankles vanished and both girls could not have been more relieved for it.

Christine watched on in silence as the rat catcher ran off with his army of rats and the further they got away, the quieter their sounds diminished. Meanwhile, Meg let out a cry of disgust.

"UGH!" She cried. "That was absolutely revolting! They ruined my ballet shoes- I could feel them crawling over them and tearing them apart!"

Christine could only cross over to Meg and put a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "Do you wish to return?"

Meg took a deep breath and shook her head. "No- let's continue. But if I see another rat, I will strike it down."

"You know, if it were me, I would be more concerned that the rats had looked up our skirts." Christine pipped up, to try to bring light to the otherwise unpleasant situation.

Meg blinked, before giving Christine a sly grin. "Oh, those dirty little minds." She chuckled. "Well I certainly hope that they enjoyed the view, because they certainly won't be getting it again!"

Christine grinned and took her friend's hand. Whatever they would face in these cellars would have to face the both of them, and she would make sure to make it up to Meg when she would have the chance.

As they searched the last levels, Christine began to feel doubtful that she would ever find the locket. She underestimated how much this place was like a maze, and how many nooks and crannies there were.

 _If only I told Jammes before she ran off with it!_ She cursed herself.

Finally, they reached the final level of the cellars where there was an underground lake. Why there was a lake under the opera was a mystery, but this was Christine's last chance- if the locket fell into the waters below, she would go into the water, even if she had to peel off her dress and blindly use her hands to find her precious object.

"There's no way it could have gone this far." Meg glanced around. "That would have been quite a journey." She gave Christine a pointed look. "If we can't find it, we are going straight back up. I don't care how you do it: post a notice or something, but I really want to get back before mama gets cross with us... or worse." She shuddered.

Christine then noticed a boat tied to the stone docks. It appeared to have some sort of long pole, with which one could maneuver their way through the water. What did they call it again? Punting?

Christine aimed her lantern at the boat to get a better look at it. As she did, she noticed something shinning upon the ground near the boat. Something very familiar.

With a gasp of relief beyond words, Christine hurried down the remaining steps and dashed across the ground before picking up the familiar object.

"Father!" She clicked open the locket, where Gustave Daae still remained in perfect condition, while the locket itself sustained a few dents and felt dirty to the touch.

"You found it?!" Meg was amazed as Christine let out a breathless laugh. The brunette began to clean the exterior of the locket with her skirts, before she placed it back around her neck for safe keeping.

"I am not going to lose you again." Christine swore to the locket as she held onto it for dear life, while Meg hurried to her. Christine turned and gave Meg a smile as her blue eyes sparkled with joy. "Now we can-" she paused as something caught her ear.

She could hear music playing: somewhere in this cellar, someone was playing on the organ, of all instruments. It was faint, and it was impossible beyond words, but it was there and it sounded loud and angry, as if the person was practically attacking the keys with a great furiousness. It almost seemed to echo across the vastness of the seemingly glass like lake.

"You... you can hear that too, right?" Christine asked Meg in confusion.

"I... yes?" Meg frowned. "Isn't that an organ?"

Christine turned back. "It's coming from across the lake." She went towards the boat.

"Wait!" Meg panicked. "You can't be serious! We should go back!"

"I have to know... I can't explain." Christine was puzzled. The music was practically beckoning to her and she wondered who on earth would play so masterfully, but with such a temper?

She went into the boat and the lantern was placed at the center, where she could see through the darkness. Meg let out a groan (she would not feel comfortable going back up on her own without any light) and she joined Christine. The brown haired girl struggled with the long pole, but finally she managed to figure it out and began to propel them towards the music.

As the girls got closer to the music, it grew louder in sound. Unlike the rats, they felt compelled to go towards it, as if the music caught them in some sort of spell. This was especially the case for Christine, who could feel music in the way that only a true musician could hear it, but she kept wondering why the music sounded angry in the first place.

The passage across the lake seemed endless, and the darkness threatened to close over them, with the lantern being their only sole light to fight it off. All the while, the music grew louder... louder... _louder._

They finally came upon a rocky shore, where there was a strange iron wall built into the stone walls. It was upon this shore where the music was so loud that it almost drove Christine to covering her ears, while Meg cringed and obeyed this instinct without hesitation. Christine tried to search for the music, but all she found was a strange black bottle laying amongst the line where the rocks met the water.

Why on earth was such a thing here? Was it a prop that was stolen by a greedy worker, only for it to get lost?

Christine walked over to the bottle and promptly picked it up. For some curious reason, the second she made this act, the music stopped immediately. All that was left of it was the echoes of the last notes as they bounced off the walls and left the girls to an uncomfortable silence, which was even worse than the melodic anger.

Christine stared at the bottle, which was also modestly covered in blood red and grey jewels without making it too gaudy. It looked like it belonged from another country, and yet this object had an odd familiar touch of European art within the golden patterns that seemed to be painted upon it.

The grey jewels suddenly emitted a soft white glow, causing the chorus girl to gasp in surprise.

"Christine?" Meg called out to her. "What is it?"

Christine watched the whiteness of the jewels as they shimmered like sunlight upon water. This was not a prop and this was not even an _ordinary_ object. It was beautiful, and yet Christine felt that there was something unnatural about it... almost as if it were from another world.

"Christine?"

Christine turned to face Meg, who stared at her in confusion.

She held the bottle up for Meg to see as she returned to the boat. The girl stared in awe at the object, before Christine handed it to her, for her to get a better look at it.

After seconds of observing the shimmering light from the white jewels, Meg looked up at Christine in alarm. "What did you _find_ Christine?"

"I... I don't know." Christine stared at the bottle with uncertainty. "But this can't possibly be a lost prop from above-"

At this, Meg let out a panicked gasp and forced the bottle back to Christine. "Oh no! Mama will get angry! Hurry, let's get out of here!"

Christine wasted no time in getting them across the lake as if their lives depended on it, and when she tired out from punting the boat across the lake, Meg took over for her.

* * *

"I hope you finished recovering from the previous night Raoul." Philippe crossed his arms as he stared at his brother.

The young man in question did look a little fatigued from the previous night of merriment, but there was amusement in his dark eyes. "I may be out of focus Philippe, but my career won't end if I appear in a stupor." He laughed. Although the two almost looked exactly like each other, the younger was handsome in a more boyish manner, while the other appeared to hide a frost within his eyes, despite his aristocratic airs.

"Be serious Raoul!" Philippe scowled as he pointed to the waiting carriage. "I want you to think of your future! You could become an admiral, like our ancestor, and you passed with flying colors, so I'll be damned if you mess this up."

Raoul finally took a deep breath and composed himself before he apologized. "I'm sorry- it's just that- well, I don't know how long it will be before I come back to France, let alone Paris."

"And hopefully by then we'll find you a suitable wife." Philippe muttered to himself.

"What was that?"

"Nothing." Philippe shook his head and smiled, but then a stranger accidentally bumped into him. Whatever warmth the elder had contained vanished in that moment, and he gripped the offender's arm in fury.

"Watch where you are going!" He demanded.

The man in a foreign looking cap only gave Philippe a tired glance. "I'm afraid I've gone through quite a lot. Forgive me monsieur for being distracted."

"Let him go Philippe." Raoul gently separated Philippe from the stranger and gave the latter an apologetic look. A smile of appreciation could be seen in the man's jade eyes as he nodded to the younger brother.

"Perhaps..." The man wondered aloud "perhaps I should leave Paris and see this part of the world for myself for a time. And maybe one day I'll find it in my heart to come back here." He added as he then walked off.

 _What a strange fellow._ Raoul wondered, before his mind began to race.

"Ah, that reminds me!" Raoul snapped his fingers. "Perhaps Auguste would like to join me for a part of the journey!" He turned to his brother and quickly hugged him. "See you in a few years Philippe! I promise I'll write soon!" He practically hopped to the carriage in his haste to make the journey.

It took a moment for Philippe to realize what Raoul meant, and he cringed as the younger brother closed the door to the carriage behind him.

"You can't just take the Baron's son with you like this is an outing!" Philippe protested "Raoul wait!" But it was too late and the horses to the carriage almost ran off to their destination.

"I'll forever curse the day God thought it would be amusing to make you impulsive." Philippe groaned as he longed for another visit to the Opera House- or at least it would have been nice, if he hadn't been in an argument with Sorelli. Seconds later, he realized something that he had forgotten about.

"Perhaps I should have told him about the Opera girl who claimed to have been friends with him." But he shook his head as he realized that he barely knew the girl, and he didn't know if she would have been worth his time to begin with.

* * *

As they went back up the cellars, Christine and Meg glanced at the bottle again, while it was being held in the former's hands.

"I wonder why the jewels turn white when we touch it." Meg crossed her arms behind her back. "Is it sorcery, or science?"

"Who knows?" Christine shrugged. The only thing that mattered in this travel was that she found what she was looking for, as if fate was being kind to her for once. Sure, it was strange that the necklace managed to fall so far down, but she didn't want to question that part just yet.

Meg glanced over her shoulder as the two walked towards the stair case to the second cellar, but then she gasped and pulled Christine away towards abandoned set pieces near the walls.

"It's the being who guards the cellars!" She hissed as she and Christine flattened their backs against the walls as much as they could.

Seconds later, a veiled figure began to walk across their line of sight, and neither of them dared stir while they could hear the sound of his or her footsteps. It happened rather quickly, that neither of them believed that they couldn't have been seen, and yet the being did not even try to search them out. Eventually the footsteps died and the silence returned.

The girls turned to each other and let out quiet, nervous chuckling. Christine moved from her spot and rested her side against the wall in order to better face Meg, and, in the process, accidentally pushed a stone into the ground. The scrapping of stone against stone caused a huge wall of stones to suddenly open up behind Christine, who then turned in alarm at the new discovery of what appeared to be a narrow tunnel.

"A hidden passage!" Meg was excited at this discovery and she proceeded to enter the tunnel.

Wordlessly, Christine tried to quickly peer into the tunnel after Meg and provided some light from the lantern for the ballerina. The tunnel was surprisingly short, with not much inside, but Christine felt a curiosity overtake her, and she walked further in to explore it's contents, while Meg moved closer towards the dead end of the tunnel.

What neither of them were expecting was for the floor to suddenly fold out under their feet, along with the sound of creaking metal.

Meg let out a scream as she fell through the floor, followed by Christine, who almost dropped her belongings in the confusion. They were swallowed by the earth altogether, before the floor folded back up as if the girls wasn't there to begin with.

When Meg fell first, she accidentally slipped against the surface of the smooth flooring and almost cracked her head when she fell to the ground. Although it wasn't fatal, it was enough to knock the poor ballerina unconscious and remain still upon the ground.

As for Christine, she tumbled into the ground, and partially on top of her friend, but she lost her hold of the lantern and bottle: both practically flew from her hands to opposite ends of the spacious room, but at least the lantern was still alit, before the hole above her closed up.

It took a solid minute for the poor singer to compose her nerves and absorb the shock of what had just happened. She was left stunned and staring up at the mirror like hexagonal ceiling, which seemed to reflect herself and her friend, before she finally whispered "Meg?"

No response.

Christine carefully turned over and pushed herself up into a crawling position, so she could move closer to her friend. The blonde was alive, and her chest was moving, but her eyes were closed.

"Meg?" Christine asked again, but once more there was no response.

She made as if to shake the girl, but the moment she put her hands on her shoulders, she recalled all the times that singers who had poor posture would black out and were best to be left alone to have some breathing room. Would this be the same case?

Instead, Christine steadily got up and left Meg be, so she could pick up the abandoned lantern. She held it upward to see just what they had found- or where they had been trapped in.

Mirrors: everywhere she looked, she saw nothing but mirrors that went from floor to ceiling. They were beautiful, but they seemed clouded, and dirtied, as if they were abandoned.

There was no exit in sight and all she could see was her panicked face, and her friend collapsed on the floor several times over and over into infinity.

Christine could do nothing but frantically yell for help for as hard and as loud as her body could allow her to project, but no one would hear it- she was trapped in the room of mirrors, and the passageway to the trap had already been sealed back up again.

* * *

 **Dun, dun, DUNNNNN!**

 **Ok, I did say that I had the cast from the tour production in mind, but I am giving Christine back her canon eye color (blue) and she won't be the only one who will get back their canon eye color.**

 **For those of you who know which room Christine (and Meg) is trapped in, there's a bit of a twist: it's based off the masquerade sequence from the new touring production, which- I kid you not- supposedly took a nod to the book version of this room. (even better: Erik had an iron tree in his lair. It's the little things that make me happy :) )**

 **Also, I took a liberty or two: in the book, you have to crawl through a hole to get into this room, but I needed to make our final part of our in-house 'cave of wonders' more tempting.**

 **Next chapter... well, I need to at least work on the next chapter for Time's Trade, but in the meantime, I'll keep you in suspense. (Hopefully within two weeks.) :)**


	3. The spirit in the bottle

**Edit: starting to put operas and book in italics. Process might still take a few days.**

 **Annnd, we are back. You guys were waiting for this, weren't you? It's a tad on the exposition side, but hopefully it won't disappoint, considering who shows up. I wish I had an idea of how many people have been reading this, but considering that was down for a time... well, let's see what happens after this.**

 **So, when we last left off, we saw the girls go through something that seemed to be right out of Amnesia: The Dark Descent ( I couldn't help but notice it) and are trapped in a place that's familiar and yet not quite...**

* * *

Chapter 3: The spirit in the bottle

Christine gave up yelling for help. If there was anything else that could be done, she could at least keep her ears alert for any sound of life by from outside the room and the tunnel. Then she could at least try to yell out for help again- it was the only hope she had at this moment.

She glanced to her unconscious friend, who was still laying on the ground. She hoped that Meg would wake up soon, so that she wouldn't have to be alone, though the girl would possibly get into a panic when she would realize what had happened to them. Christine sat against one of the many mirrors, and watched and waited for a change to come or for any sort of a miracle to appear.

Time slowly passed as she closed her eyes and listened for any unusual sounds. For almost ten minutes, all she could hear was nothing but the silence that signified just how utterly alone she was, and without the warm and eager talks that Meg would provide, her hope for rescue began to dwindle.

An idea came to her head: it went against her first idea, but it would help calm her nerves.

Christine took a deep breath and sang out with as much fortissimo as she could manage. Her voice echoed all around her, as she used her greatest gift as a way to save herself and her friend from the situation they were stuck in. She willed herself to sing with the energy she once had before her father's passing, in order to make sure that she could be heard, as she searched around the room of mirrors for some way out.

One by one, a song would pass from her lips as she aimed the now dim lantern at the mirrors for any lever, crack, or nail, in order to escape. Sections from _The Marriage of Figaro, Don Giovanni, The Magic Flute,_ and the somewhat recent _Die Fledermaus_ came forth from her voice, as she ran her hands against the walls and the floor for anything- anything that could save them.

Halfway through an imperfect rendition of the Laughing Song from _Die Fledermaus_ , Christine felt her voice grow weary, and she was forced to stop singing. She ran a hand over her face and glanced at her repeated reflection in the mirrors, which seemed to mock her with her look of near defeat upon her face. Christine turned away and casted her eyes to the floor, when she saw the long forgotten black bottle laying innocently on the floor on it's side.

"I just had to search for the music and find you, didn't I?" Christine angrily frowned at it. "I went to retrieve my locket and instead, we get locked up in a room of mirrors. I'll have you know that if I knew that this would of happened, I'd have gone right back up and left you alone!"

There was no response from the bottle.

"Of course." Christine realized as she shook her head and let out a scoff. "With Meg dead asleep, I'd have to start speaking to some sort of vase for company."

She went over to the bottle to pick it up, and set the lantern to the ground. Once again, the grey jewels turned to a shimmering white, but they appeared as if they were mocking her, instead of providing any sort of relief. As pretty as it was, was the bottle worth the misfortune she had to endure today? Was it worth her life itself, seeing as there was a chance they might never be found?

Christine carefully inspected the bottle- despite the sudden journey, the bottle still looked like it was in good condition. Some of the jewels seemed to have fingerprint smudges, but it was still in good condition.

Having nothing better to do in that moment, Christine gathered a handful of fabric from her skirt and tried to wipe away the smudge marks. Her thumb accidentally jutted out and brushed against the bottle, along with the fabric as it moved it's way back and forth across the surface of the bottle.

That's when the unexpected happened: the blue stone tipped stopper of the bottle suddenly flipped open and a shower of sparks flew out of the hole as the lighting of the jewels intensified to the point that it overpowered the light from the lantern and almost blinded Christine.

Christine let out a curse that would have made the 'worldly' stage-hands laugh with pride as she dropped the bottle, but the sparks still came flying out, even as the bottle hit the ground and rolled off to the side.

But that wasn't all: a pale, but thick smoke, like fog in the night began to come forth from within the bottle. Christine could only stared wide-eyed in shock as the smoke trailed out continuously, as if the bottle could hold far more than she had initially imagined and it slowly circled around her, before it went to Meg and circled around her, before it started to thicken and began building up into a column.

What in all that was sacred, had she just done?! What was happening?!

The smoke column continued to build up, until it was taller than Christine herself. She could feel her heart beat wildly inside her, and she felt her skin turned cold in the anticipation of what would happen. Would the smoke suffocate her and Meg?

The smoke suddenly fanned out, to reveal a black cloaked figure as they threw their arms out and threw their head back with a gasp of air as the smoke dissipated into nothingness. At that exact moment, the sparks finally died away and the light of the bottle dimmed back to it's original intensity, but there was barely any light to make out the new figure within the room.

Almost immediately, as if this being could sense the lack of lighting in the room, they flicked their hands outward and Christine watched in mute awe as slender columns of smoke rose up from all the corners of the room and faded away to reveal standing candelabras that lit up the room with a golden glow that made the room seem welcoming, rather than cold. As this happened, the being quickly, yet carefully folded his arms to his chest and his head bowed to his chest so quickly that Christine didn't get even a glimpse of his face.

In those moments, fear turned into curiosity as Christine realized what just happened: a _man_ was created from the smoke. It was as if she was living out some sort of story, and yet her rational mind was struggling to grasp it.

He wore a floor length black robe, with strange beaded details on the shoulders of the outer garments and the cuffs of his billowing sleeves. The robe was styled as if it were like a gentlemen's evening coat, so it perfectly hung onto his his slightly thin frame where it needed to, and she could make out a white shirt of some sort and trousers under the robe.

The man's pale, almost skeletal fingers twitched and Christine could see some sort of ring with a dark stone on smallest of the fingers of his left hand. The man slowly raised his head of black hair as he straightened himself to an upright position, and that was when Christine gave him her complete attention.

Upon the man's face was a white mask that covered most of the right side of his face, in addition to his nose and most of his forehead, and it seemed to cover the upper half of the right side of his lips. The mask was sculpted in such a way, that it appeared to be in a permanent and hideous scowl- indeed, the brow was narrowed, and the eyehole was so far from the eye itself, that she might as well have been staring into a hole of darkness when she tried to gaze into it.

As for the rest of the face that was exposed Christine could see that the man was rather pleasing to behold and she almost lost her breath because of this. He appeared handsome in a way that seemed cold and fierce, and it was that observation that made Christine snap back to reality.

The man opened his eyes and looked at her: his eyes were an amber yellow, like a cat's, although the design of the eye socket of the mask made it look as if the right eye was glowing within the darkness. Christine waited to see what he would do next and he seemed to do the same, before he finally broke the silence.

"Seeing as you must have some questions, Mademoiselle," The man spoke in a voice that was commanding, and yet so wondrous, as if it were music itself "would you rather that I awaken your companion first? It would save me some trouble, seeing as she will wake up in a few minutes."

When Christine failed to respond, the man knelt beside Meg and placed one finger to her forehead. A second later the blonde girl jolted up with a startled gasp while the man slowly got back up into a standing position and clasped his hands together.

"Meg!" Christine recovered her wits and was quickly by the girl's side and placed a hand on her friend's shoulder. The girl looked as if she had just awoken from a nightmare and it took a moment to compose herself before she glanced to Christine.

"Wh-what happened?" Meg asked. "We fell through the floor and then-" She gave Christine a questioning look.

Christine bit her lip and tried to think of a response. "The bottle I found-" She pointed to the object, which seemed a lot more alive than it did before and Christine prepared herself, to say the impossible, no matter how hard it was to say it "-contained _him_." She pointed to the man who momentarily glanced around the room with displeasure, before glancing down to the young women.

While Meg seemed as if she was still waking up from her unconscious state, looked up in confusion at the man. "I don't understand." She leaned in to whisper in her friend's ear. "And who exactly is this man?"

"I am not a man." They heard the man's voice speak as if he were right behind them, and it caused both girl's to turn and see that he _wasn't_ here. "At least, if you could even _call_ me a man." He added with a slight trace of bitterness as they stared up at his reflection.

"Then what _are_ you exactly?" Christine got herself back on her feet and helped pull Meg back up on her feet.

"Have you ever read about tales of wish granting spirits?" The man inquired. "Specifically in the tales of the Arabian Nights?"

Christine racked her brain- of course she had heard such stories in her childhood. As for the book mentioned, there was a copy in the Valerius's library that she read from a few times. Suddenly, it all came together: the bottle, the magic, this man-

"Your a jinn?!" Christine almost incredulously shouted.

"What are you talking about?" Meg asked. "Christine, what is going on?"

"He's a jinn!" Christine told her. "They grant you wishes!"

"And how did you come to this conclusion?" Meg wasn't convinced- she didn't know what had happened before she had awoken.

"Do I have to prove to her that what you asked is true, Mademoiselle?" The man asked in slight annoyance although there seemed to a childish eagerness in his eyes about the whole matter. "No matter: I will show you." He then brought a hand out and, with some sort of strange sweeping gesture as if he were about to conduct a symphony, made an orb of fire appear in his hand. "Could a normal person do this?" He asked them.

Meg finally fell silent, and Christine stared in amazement at the fire.

With a smirk, the man- or jinn, they supposed- tossed the flame into the air and when it hit the ground, it exploded into an even bigger flame that made both girl's cry out and back away from it.

"Could someone do that?" They heard him talk behind them again. When they turned, they saw the jinn walk across the mirrors within their reflections, from one mirror to another, and blocked the girls' counterparts out. His masked side faced them, but they could see the hint of a pleased smirk on his mouth as the fire behind them died as quickly as it came.

"Can they make these appear?" He gestured to something behind them with another wave of his hand.

There was a strange sound behind the girls, and when they turned they saw- to their equal horror- a scorpion and a grasshopper about the size of a sheep on the other side of the room. Both creatures seemed angry, tense, and prepared to strike at one another. When the grasshopper finally hopped towards the scorpion, the latter lashed it's deadly stinger right into the former's backside- and they both disappeared into a puff of white smoke-like fog.

"Would this be preferable?"

The smoke changed it's shape, and in place of the grasshopper and the scorpion were two gentlemen in evening clothes and masks that were designed similarly to the creatures. Each one approached the girls and bowed to them before they suddenly took them both by the waist and danced each girl around the room as if they were in a waltz.

Meg let out a smile and laughed in excitement as she allowed herself to be swept away by the grasshopper masked man, while Christine stared in amazement at her scorpion masked partner: none of this should be possible, and yet it was happening all the same.

After a few turns around the room, the masked men finally brought the girls back to the center of the room, before they vanished into smoke once more.

"Or perhaps something like this?" Christine suddenly heard the man's voice in her ear. When she turned, she became face to somewhat of a face with him and before she knew it, he gently waved a hand over her, and suddenly, her clothing felt much heavier than they should have been.

"My God!" Meg gasped. "Christine, look in the mirror!"

Christine turned and saw that her casual dress had turned into a flowing white gown that seemed to sparkle with small crystals, and even her hair contained flower shaped diamonds placed here and there.

"Magnificent, isn't it?" The jinn asked with pride and amusement. "There are only a few limits to what I can do, and yet there is so much at my command."

Christine glanced down to make sure that her eyes weren't playing a trick on her. She then realized something. "The organ that we heard down in the cellars! When I touched the bottle, it stopped playing- that was you, wasn't it?!" She turned to the jinn for clarification.

The jinn's smile widened- clearly, he was one who enjoyed showing off, and he was pleased by the young woman's reaction. "Because you found my bottle, you are now the current owner, which means that you are now my Mistress."

"I- what?" Christine stared at him in shock as Meg let out a spectacular laugh at the man's words. The girl even had to kneel down because of the sheer power of the humor that she found in the moment, and could barely keep herself together.

"Not like _that_ , Mademoiselle." The jinn's eyes narrowed at the blonde. "I'd prefer to consider that title with honor, than with less nobler definitions."

Meg took a breath and looked as if she were about to choke with her reddened face, but she managed to crack a grin and wave. "I'm sorry- please continue Monsieur jinn."

"It is within my power to grant my Master or Mistress three wishes." The masked jinn turned back to Christine as he resumed his explanation. "No more, and no less. After that, I will vanish out of your life."

"But if you give me three wishes-" Christine began before she realized she forgot something important. "I'm sorry." She apologized. "What is your name? I forgot to ask."

The man's smirk suddenly faltered and he looked at her in disbelief as if he wasn't expecting that. Christine wasn't sure why such a question would cause that change, but she decided to introduce herself. "I am Christine. And that is my friend Meg." She nodded to the blonde who shyly smiled and waved after recovering from her laughing fit.

The masked jinn was hesitant for a moment. Then he finally spoke:

"I am Erik."

Christine beamed. "Well, Erik, it certainly is a pleasure to meet you." She gathered the sides of her new dress and curtseyed to him. It was then that she felt a longing for her old clothes. "Could I please have my dress back? This gown is lovely, and I am grateful for the gesture, but it hardly counts as a wish, if I didn't ask for it to begin with."

Erik seemed interested by this odd request, but he obeyed her. Another wave of the hand later, Christine could feel that her dress had returned, by the sudden lightness of her original clothing.

"But that was such a gorgeous dress!" Meg protested.

"It came right from the chambers of an empress." Erik informed her. "I merely borrowed it for this occasion."

"... _Borrowed_?" Meg raised an eyebrow at this.

"As I was going to say." Christine continued. "What is the price for three wishes? Must I offer my soul up to you?"

"I am not Mephistopheles." Erik scowled at her. "What could I want with a soul? I have one- if you could call it a soul anymore. I have no use for yours."

"You don't want my soul." Christine repeated to herself with a nod of relief. "That's good to hear."

"Of course, there are certain limitations that you must be aware of." Erik threw his hands out and began to walk around Christine, who was forced to turn in her spot, in order to follow him. "As I demonstrated, almost everything that you ask for requires an exchange because it has to already exist- if you ask for wealth, the money must come from out of someone's own pocket. If you ask for a house, the supplies must be taken from their original environment. If you ask for success, such as wanting to move up into society and become a lady or baroness, then that will require a certain span of time in order for it to come into effect."

"Well, I don't need a house or wealth." Christine assured him.

"There are also three kinds of wishes that I cannot grant, due to... _set limitations_." Erik didn't sound pleased at this. "It's understandable, but it's also aggravating, if you ask me. First and most importantly-" He stopped and turned to her. "-I cannot kill anyone for you. Don't ask why: I didn't make the rules."

Christine couldn't fight off the shudder at those words. Why on earth would she want that?!

"Secondly, I cannot make someone fall in love with another against their will." Erik continued. "Finally, I cannot bring back anyone from the dead. The soul is too far gone from the mortal realm to retrieve it back by that time- believe me, it has been attempted before, and it never ends well."

It was then that Christine- against her will- thought about her father.

Even though Erik stated that third rule, a part of her felt crushed at the idea that she couldn't bring her father back into her life. Maybe if she found Erik sooner, she could have prevented her father's death. A part of her was strongly wishing that the third rule didn't exist- maybe it was the one wish she could have asked from the jinn.

"I'm sorry." Erik could see in Christine's eyes that she missed someone very dear to her. "But I cannot bring a loved one back. That is the will of the universe, no matter how sad or bizarre it is to either of us."

"I understand." Christine sighed and shook her head.

"Wait a moment!" Meg protested. "There's a catch, isn't there? What if she wished for something and didn't mean it, like she wanted a parasol or for rehearsals to end?"

"Meg is right." Christine realized. "I was told that you have to word your wish carefully, or you will get an unwanted result." She recalled those tales, and how the characters met with misfortune through such cases.

Erik's smirk returned. "Clever girls: you both see the problem, but there is a solution."

He held a hand out, in which a simple gold ring rested on his palm. "You will have to rub the bottle in order to summon me, so you don't have to worry about making an accidental wish when I'm not around. This band will nullify any wish that you do not want to be granted, while I am in your presence."

"That was quite a lot to take in!" Christine admitted. "To think that there are so many rules and regulations for wishing! I have to confess Monsieur that I am not envious of your profession."

"Are you ready to accept my services then?" Erik seemed to be amused by the whole situation as he held out his hand for her to take the band. "If it's too much, you can always bow out."

"Take it!" Meg excitedly grabbed Christine's shoulders and shook them. "Take it! Maybe we can get out of here, and mother won't have to scold us for being late, later tonight!"

Christine had no idea how fate had changed in her favor. And yet she felt compelled to follow out this strange new direction in her life and see where it would lead her: after all, she suddenly had a feeling that the search for her locket was not a coincidence.

"I suppose there's no harm." Christine accepted the ring from Erik's waiting hand and placed it within the pockets of her dress.

"One last thing." Whatever amusement in Erik's eyes vanished, and was replaced with an abrupt coldness as he began to warn her with utmost seriousness. "You must _never_ tell anyone else about me. I will disguise the bottle, to draw attention away from it, but I would prefer that the rest of the world remain's in ignorance of my existence. There are people who could easily use me to create disasters beyond your wildest imagination, and I have no desire to be a part of them anymore. _Do I make myself clear?_ "

Christine couldn't explain it, but she sensed something within those words of caution. There was warning, and there was something dark and foreboding, as if he were warning the world against _himself_ , but she could have sworn that there was a trace of fear in his voice when he told her those words.

"I accept your terms." Christine firmly agreed. "Now- about getting out of here-"

"That will not require any wishing." Erik dismissively waved it off, to the surprise of the girls. "I personally cannot stand this room, so I shall take you out of here as a favor."

"Oh, thank God!" Christine let out a deep sigh of relief and ran to Meg and hugged her. "Madame is going to give us a scolding, but that would be preferable to being trapped in this room."

"What does that mean?" Meg asked.

"We were locked up in this room and I couldn't find an exit." Christine finally told her.

Meg suddenly turned pale when she realized the error of her curiosity. "I'm sorry." She hung her head in regret. "I didn't realize that there was a trap in the passage-"

"It's fine." Christine assured her, despite that she was slightly cross with her friend about the matter. "We didn't know any better."

* * *

Rosina was one of the many young ballerinas in training, but in truth, she was among the many who would rather be _singing_ at the opera instead. She was terrified of Madame Giry, for one thing, and didn't want to face her wrath when she was outside the practice rooms. And yet, when she went back to the studio to retrieve her copy of _Candide_ that she had forgotten, she could hear a soft music box tune playing from within, and felt a deadly temptation to linger and listen.

Carefully she opened the door and spied on the Madame: she was staring at a piece of paper while a music box of a monkey in Persian robes that was playing the cymbals as a sweet, yet somewhat sad little melody came out of it's box rested on her desk.

The Madame seemed strangely melancholic as she read the paper. It was as if the stoic mask had cracked to reveal something more human-like that was normally impossible to coax from the ballet mistress.

She seemed lost in some sort of past memory.

Slowly Rosina entered the room and went to fetch the book, but when she turned back, she only had enough seconds to see that the monkey automaton was retreating back into it's box, while the Madame gave the girl a hard look, as if Rosina had invaded a moment of sacred privacy and violated it. Rosina was more than willing to run out of there as fast as she could, just as one of the older members of the ballet came bursting in, seconds later.

"Madame Giry!" She gasped for air. "Meg and Christine are nowhere to be found!"

The Madame sharply looked up in alert at the older girl. "What?"

"Jammes stole Christine's locket, and there was this chase and-" The girl tried to explain, but she stumbled with her words and Madame Giry sat up from her desk and grabbed her cane. She knocked the bottom of the cane against the ground, and the girl immediately fell to silence, out of in-bred habit through said cane.

"Calm your tongue, girl, and start from the beginning."

* * *

A search was made for the two girls within the Opera house, but it might as well have been a fool's errand, considering how the whole building could have fit all of Paris inside of it, and Madame Giry almost believed that they wouldn't be able to easily find the two in one day. It would not be like them if they left to go outside, and she believed what the ballerinas told her, in regards to why the girls disappeared.

Cecile Jammes would be due for additional practice for a whole week, as a reminder for her foolishness. This, Madame Giry was certain of, and if something happened to the girls, she would discharge the ballerina from the opera if it was within her power to do so.

Time gradually passed, and just as Madame Giry began to worry that the girls found themselves lost in some horrid location, someone finally found them. "We found them!" A stage hand suddenly yelled. "They're in the third cellar!"

As quick as lightening, the Madame hurried down to the cellars, and didn't even stop until she saw a small group of stage-hands and other workers surrounding two bewildered looking young women. Meg's slippers looked as though something had torn them up, and both her skirts and Christine's dresses looked slightly dirty, but otherwise they both appeared to be fine. Where in God's name had they gone within the cellars?

"Where have you been?!" Madame Giry angrily demanded, and yet her motherly side was winning against her role in the opera house, as she gathered the girl's into an embrace. Christine was eager in the embrace that she returned back, and Meg was somewhat hesitant in her own.

"We found my locket." Was all that Christine could manage to say. "I'm sorry we caused you to worry so much."

"What were you two thinking?!" Madame let go of the both of them. "You could have caught a cold or had an accident down there! There are reasons I forbade you two to go down there without someone familiar with the cellars at your side!"

"We're here though Mama." Meg tried to reassure the woman. "I promise, I will never go back down there again. My slippers can testify to that."

"And you Christine?" Madame Giry glanced to the girl. "Will you keep your word?"

"I found what I was looking for." Christine gestured to the locket on her neck. "I have no reason to be down there again."

"It's partially my fault we were there for so long!" Meg suddenly confessed. "We made a detour and we got lost, so most of the blame should be on me!"

"We shall discuss your punishments later." Madame informed her daughter before she glanced to the stage hands and workers. "Gentlemen, thank you for finding them. You are free to go about your way."

They nodded and there were a few "You're welcome Madame." before they went about their ways.

Madame Giry turned around and began to walk back to the surface of the Opera. Meg and Christine followed suit, but Meg watched as Christine carefully opened up one of the pockets of her dress and glanced within to see the bottle hiding inside it.

They didn't come back alone, and they now had to share a tremendous secret from the rest of the world.

* * *

 **This isn't the first time I've partnered up a sane young woman with an eccentric/lunatic in my fan fics, so it'll be fun to see where this goes. Man, Erik is a lot less stiff, compared to how I used to write him, and I'm enjoying his more humorous side.**

 **I was inspired by the chandelier and the smoke that appears during the title number of the musical for Erik's magic. However, you can see that not** _ **all**_ **of his magic is actual magic, as he can still throw his voice to confuse others. There was quite a bit of Disney influence in this chapter too: the showing off in particular was a nod to "Friend Like Me." ("Can your friends do this? Can your friends do that? Etc.)**

 **Now, knowing Erik, let's see if** _ **any**_ **of those jinn rules will be put to the test...**

 **I'll have to work on Hyrule Warriors Warped alongside this fic, so I'm not sure when I'll update, but I can assure you that I have a head start on the next chapter.**


	4. The first wish

**I am not an expert on jinn lore, so I don't know how accurate I am to it. Most of the lore that's been built has been inspired, or based on speculation (but it's still fun to come up with.)**

* * *

Chapter 4: The First Wish

Both Christine and Meg were given fair punishments: they were expected to have additional practice for a few days, for one thing, but it was the least of their concerns after the adventure they experienced down in the cellars.

The girls retreated back to the dormitories and sat on Christine's bed as they examined the bottle- or at least what it had turned to. The bottle still retained it's original shape, but it looked as if it were made out of some sort of clay material. It was poorly glazed with a light red color, to the point that they could see the clay through it, and there were cracks in the glaze itself. It looked as if a child made the offending object, and no one in their right mind would openly display it.

"Well, at least Jammes won't touch it." Meg decided. "If I didn't know any better, I wouldn't of put a finger on it."

"The uglier or ordinary an object is, the less interesting it would appear to another." Christine recalled Erik's words before he parted ays with them.

"Do you know what you'll wish for?" Meg asked.

"I'm not sure." Christine admitted. "I mean, if you had three wishes, what would they be?"

"To be a Prima Ballerina, to find myself a sweet heart, and..." Meg was stuck at the last one. "Huh... I guess it's not as easy as they make it out to be."

"Remember what he said about wording the wish correctly?" Christine reminded Meg. "If you told him you wanted a sweet heart, he would probably give you an actual heart covered in sugar." She cracked a laugh at the macabre thought, and even Meg was able to find that funny and she let out a giggle.

"You were right about not envying his profession." Meg admitted. "Still, I'd suppose you would have to think of what you want, before he get's impatient and leaves you."

"It's hard." Christine admitted. "It's as if the entirety of the world is offered to you, and yet I don't even know what to ask for. But I'll think on it." Christine promised as she set the bottle under her side table. "It might take awhile, but I hope he can be patient."

* * *

While he was able to arrange the interior of his only source of protection against the world in any way he could see fit, he had also been trapped inside it for what felt like an eternity.

There were some advantages to possessing magic- he could have his music and his precious instruments within his reach, and he could have rooms full of books, art supplies, or anything else to amuse himself with, when he wanted to tend to his various interests. He could design his confines in any way he could see fit, he could easily produce replicas of whatever pleased his eye, like one of Caravaggio's works, and all the while, he could continue creating an infinite amount of rooms with varying architectural styles, but only he would be able to enjoy them and only that could barely last.

He could have everything but a window to the outside world.

Yes, his confines would give his new Mistress privacy (the idea of _anyone_ having power over him was unpleasant for a number of reasons), and he could make it so that everything would be silent outside his home, but forced captivity was something he had also hated beyond words to describe. There was no telling who would be outside his confines when he would choose to escape, and even then, he couldn't be more than several feet away from the damned thing.

He could faintly hear Christine speak with her friend about figuring out what her first wish would be. He was almost surprised to hear that she didn't know what she wanted- after so many selfish people before her, it was almost a welcome.

He knew what _he_ wanted- he himself had three wishes that he would of asked for, if the situation was different. Unfortunately, in a twist of cruel irony, certain limitations prevented him from granting his own wishes.

He reached for his mask and carefully took it off, before he flipped it over and examined it. Yes, it was imposing and looked almost inhuman, which was what he preferred- what he _needed_ after all these years- but it now signified something new to him. After the seal on his bottle somehow disappeared, he desperately called out for someone- _anyone_ \- to find him. Of all the people who heard him, it was a girl who also sang for someone to hear her and save her and her friend from their prison.

"Should they shine white with light, may they be pure of heart with Allah's graces." He recited out loud as he stared at the flawless whiteness of his mask.

* * *

The two would not met each other again until that night's performance of _Faust_.

Christine watched as Carlotta sang Marguerite's Jewel Song, and she couldn't help but notice once again that the woman made the character seem extremely superficial. Where was the innocent wonder at the discovery of the jewels and the mirror, upon realizing her potential beauty? Instead, the diva sang as if Marguerite already knew that she was beautiful, and Christine found herself wishing that she could give the character proper justice.

She then realized the error of what she just thought and looked around in alert to make sure that nothing out of the ordinary happened, but there was no smoke, no fire, and no masked men lurking about. She made to look back to watch the performance, while contemplating about it, when the inevitable finally happened.

"So you're a part of the chorus in this Opera?"

She turned in alarm to see Erik standing with crossed arms next to Marthe- or Lisette, as she was known in real life- who was waiting for her turn to go onstage again.

Christine's eyes widened and was about to ask what he was doing, but Erik then put a finger to his lips.

"At this moment, my Mistress, only you can see me." He told her. "It's quite convenient actually, since it allows me to see just what kind of world you are living in. Also, before you ask, yes: even your own friend won't be able to see me."

Christine wisely kept her mouth shut, although she wasn't entirely sure if she liked being called 'Mistress.' It felt unfamiliar to her, as if she had a right over him: like he was her possession.

"Unfortunately, I can see and hear a need for desperate improvement for this production." Erik continued with a displeased grimace. "I can hear instruments that are out of tune and some are not in the proper tempo. Certain members of the cast need work on their projections and sound flat. Your Mephistopheles is excellent, though, your Faust needs to work on his pronunciations and his vibrato, but the worst offender is your Marguerite." He scowled at Carlotta, who then let out a final high note, before the string section finished off the song as she danced about in her jewels. "Who in their right frame of mind thought that she is a professional? She doesn't understand her character- instead it's as if she only cares about being heard and showing off."

A round of applause erupted from the audience and yet it was nothing in Christine's ears. She couldn't believe that this being had managed to pick out errors within the show- some of which she didn't notice- and she had a feeling that he had far more to say than what he was letting on.

Erik then glanced back to Christine. "You know, I am curious about your singing abilities. I thought I heard someone practically yell out Mozart's work, before you first summoned me, though it didn't sound as if they were trying to deliberately perform for an audience."

Christine turned her head in shame- did he really hear her sing like that?

Erik glanced back to the performance as Lisette began to get ready to go on once more. "Her acting is good so far." He nodded to Lisette. "I am curious as to where she will go with her singing."

"What are you doing out here?" Christine hissed as soon as Lisette was out of earshot.

"You can't expect me to stay in hiding while I wait for you to make a wish, can you?" He asked. "You have no idea how annoying or unbearable it is to stay trapped in that thing. I admit that sometimes the isolation is a welcome from time to time- at least until I get rudely interrupted- but until you make a wish, I can see that my presences in this Opera House might be necessary."

"What do you mean?" Christine nervously asked. The last thing she wanted was to unintentionally cause trouble because of her actions of today.

"Let's just say..." Erik reached in one of his sleeves and pulled out a set of yellow paper as he gave her a serious look. "...that the members of the orchestra will find some critiques that I will be providing for tomorrow. I have few for the chorus master, and- well, I'll save my notes for the principles when the time comes."

* * *

That very next morning, quite a few people had found Erik's critiques in their possession, and they were very mystified as to what had happened, how it happened, and exactly who was responsible for it.

"All in red ink!" Gabriel (the chorus master) practically shouted to Reyer as he held up his batch of notes. "Some lunatic told me that I need to check my hearing, because some of the chorus members are flat and need work on their projection! And he had the audacity to write in such bad hand writing too!"

Christine glanced over one of the notes that a member of the chorus received and it indeed looked as if a child was struggling to write with pen and ink as if they were still learning. Was that really Erik's actual hand-writing style, or was it a joke on his part?

"I cannot accept this!" Carlotta fumed as she held her notes out. "This same person told me that I am too materialistic! That I don't understand my role! That my performance of the finale was heart-breaking, but not for the reasons that it was supposed to be!"

"What does LeFevre say?" A flutist asked Reyer.

"Well, from what I hear, it wasn't pleasant." The conductor admitted. "I hate to admit it, but after the transitions that have happened, it's been hard to pay attention to the orchestra's needs."

"So it's our fault that this is happening?!" Piangi incredulously demanded.

"We have only been here for a few days!" Carlotta spat. "You can't expect us to take the blame!"

The proceeding argument took ten minutes of rehearsal time, until everyone could begin. Until then, while everyone was arguing or enjoying the real life drama that was unfolding, Christine went over the critiques that everyone was given in her head, and wondered if they would take the advice of the sender or not. If so, would the show improve in anyway?

This time, Christine kept her eyes opened for a sign of Erik to appear, and her patience was rewarded: the jinn quietly appeared in the orchestra pit and walked amongst them while he glanced over to check their sheet music now and then, before he finally came on stage to face Christine and held a strange red pen in his hands.

"Now then- let's see if they'll listen to me once they stop these petty arguments."

In the end, Erik had his way: that night's performance of _Faust_ sounded far better than it had the previous night. The acting manager, the chorus master, and the conductor worked to try to improve the parts that needed attention, and it was quite surprising how those changes made everything much more alive and better than before.

Of course, there were still some problems- in all her stubbornness, Carlotta refused to listen to the notes given to her, and continued with her version of Marguerite as if nothing had happened.

"See? I'm needed here."

Christine glanced to Erik, who looked somewhat pleased with himself. "Doesn't everything sound much better? Of course, there's still a few errors that I can hear, and of course, there's _her_." He scowled at Carlotta as if the woman was some sort of pest that wouldn't go away.

"It's a lot more enjoyable." Christine admitted before she could stop herself and a few chorus members looked at her in confusion. "What did you say?" one of the baritones asked her.

Erik innocently smiled and shook his head as Christine realized the error of her mistake. "N-nothing." She quickly told her co-performer. "I was just thinking about how much better the performance is."

"Agreed." The man acknowledged, before turning back to said performance.

* * *

"You're joking!" Meg gasped. "That was all _his_ doing?!"

Christine had finished explaining to Meg about the cause of the mischief as they went about the streets of Paris for the sake of getting out and enjoying the sun and the sights. They hadn't had a chance to immerse themselves in the city after the changes to _Faust_ , and they were going to take it while they still had time, and were dressed as normal civilians, instead of characters on stage.

"So is he with us now?" Meg asked. "I mean, how does that even work? I understand that you could see him, but what about the bottle? Isn't he bound to it?"

"He apparently had it on him the whole time." Christine tried to explain. "That or there's something he won't tell me. Also-"

She opened up her bag and a black and white cat with yellow eyes peeked it's head out. "Oh how cute!" Meg cooed in delight and was about to pet it until she realized what Christine was trying to tell her and stopped walking.

There was a very long pause amongst the small group.

"You can't be serious." Meg looked to Christine. "Is that really-" Christine awkwardly nodded.

"...Oh." Meg shot the cat an angry look. "This is our time together Monsieur! We didn't invite you along, and yet you insist on following us! I thought all men hated the idea of joining women in our shopping. Or is there something we should know about you?"

A few people gave Meg a confused look as she spoke to the cat in such an unusual way. The cat only shot her a bored look and rolled his eyes.

"I didn't realize he was in there until it was too late." Christine tried to confess. "It took me awhile to realize that it was him, instead of a lucky stray. The bottle in my bag was a giveaway-"

"Fine, then I must punish him." Meg grabbed Christine's arm and pulled to a street that both girl's were familiar with. "I'll make him bored out of his mind as we go shopping for new clothes. I need to look for a new pair of gloves anyway- how about you, Christine? Do you need something new?" She hastily, yet stiffly asked.

"I can't!" Christine protested and tried to pull her friend's hand from her wrist. "I'm trying to save my money, remember?" And unfortunately, that was the truth: she could make a modest salary at the opera, but she had no desire to spend what she inherited from her father, until she had a good reason for it.

Meg obeyed and let go of Christine. "Alright, fine- but he better not follow us everywhere we go from now on! Otherwise, I'd start to worry about his intentions." In that brief moment, the sunny girl resembled her mother in all her stern firmness, and it caught Christine off guard.

With a graceful spin, the ballerina headed to the shop that she initially wished to go to, while Christine was stuck in the middle of the road, while everyone passed her by. A street performer was playing a sweet air on his violin, while his hat was flipped out for kind civilians to toss coins into his hat, but his music did little to appease her in that moment.

Christine turned to a slightly narrow alleyway and into the safety of the shadows as she passed by the conductor, before she set her bag down and quickly put on the gold band, before she would make a mistake.

"You need to warn me about these things!" Christine demanded as the cat leapt out of her bag. She crossed her arms and waited as the cat disappeared into smoke and was replaced with an amused Erik: the sheer look of humor and mock innocence on the exposed side of his face heavily contrasted with the permanent anger of the masked side.

"I'm not the kind of person who likes to be out in the open or out in the sun, but I prefer taking alternatives." Erik threw his hands out in a great flourish. "One moment, Erik is free to walk amongst the stage and correct the performers, but the next, Erik can't be out with the Mistress Christine in the guise of a cat as she walks the streets of Paris with her friend. I would have enjoyed the humor of it all if you hadn't given the secret away: is Erik the cat? Is Erik an invisible being walking behind the two young women, or is Erik still locked up in his bottle by his Mistress's bedside?"

He let out a laugh when he saw how perplexed Christine looked.

"Maybe Erik should have pretended to be a young woman as well- at least a young woman is less interesting in a cat in your bag."

"You really enjoy this, don't you?" Christine asked. "You like confusing people."

Erik merely threw his hands up and gave her another mock innocent smile, but there was a strange glint in his eyes. "With Erik, you can't tell."

As Christine tried to understand why Erik was acting so child-like, she heard a very familiar tune from the violinist that made her fall to complete silence and forget about everything. It was one of her father's pieces- one that he used to play and she would join along in harmony when they were still on the road and near homeless.

She turned around to face the direction of the violinist as memories poured into her head: memories of the great mountains of Sweden, happy, kind hearted townsfolk who stopped to listen to father and daughter perform together... of when Gustave was finally able to perform on stage as a soloist and had his daughter sing with him for one song and one song only, and yet it was better than being in any opera production.

And without meaning to- without being aware of what was around her- Christine closed her eyes and began to sing.

She sang of the longing for her homeland and of the mother she only knew for a brief time. She sang of all the hope for the future that she and her father would find, should they seek their fortune, and if not, then they had there memories as their treasures. She sang of her love for her father, whom she dearly missed.

She wasn't aware of it, but Erik was listening closely to her as he slowly walked around to get a better look. Her singing robbed him of his humor, and left him unable to think of anything else the moment she uttered the first eight notes from her voice.

This was the very first time he _truly_ heard her sing, and he was not expecting the purity, nor the passion and emotion in her voice. Yes, it wasn't as strong as a true professional but there was a potential in that voice of hers, and he was trying his hardest not to walk over and do something as simple as straighten her shoulders for better posture. Instead, he had to listen and leave her be, or else risk ruining the moment when she realized that he was still there.

And then there was the part of him that he was not expecting: a part of him became taken with that pure voice. It was something he had never heard before, and yet he felt his heart stop all the same from the very sound of it.

She was pretty in the physical sense- not a true Aphrodite, but she was still pleasing to look at- and he liked what he knew of her so far, but the moment she sang, something about her changed, and he didn't know if he liked the sudden feelings that began to stir within him.

The music died, and Christine finally ceased singing. The memories went away all too soon, and so did that brief moment of feeling utterly, entirely whole. She hesitated for a few moments, before she opened her eyes and almost jumped with shock when she realized that she forgot who was listening to her.

"Where did that voice come from?" Erik was finally able to ask.

* * *

"His name was Gustave Daae- he was my father." Christine began as she allowed Erik to hold the locket and see the picture hiding within it.

It was still afternoon, and they were in the Opera's chapel room. It was here that, for whatever reason possessed Christine, she told Erik everything about her father. She told him of her life in Sweden, and how she inherited her love of music through her father and her singing through her late mother. She told him of their travels through Sweden, before Professor Velerius took them to France, and how her father was able to gain himself a name at last, from those who saw his potential. She told him the stories that he used to tell her, of Little Lotte and the Angel of Music, and how she wanted so badly for him to come to her as a child. She spoke of how she loved to sing with her father and how she wanted to perform on stage one day, and she finally spoke of how she was so close to achieving that dream at the conservatoire, before her father's life ended all too soon.

At this point, she stopped herself and had to take a moment.

"If... if I am here, than it is only out of luck." She frowned. "I don't think I deserve this right. This isn't how I wanted it to be."

"There's not a day that hasn't passed, where I can't think of my father." Christine glanced to Erik. "There's times where I wished I had the strength to continue with my studies and pursue my dreams, but my father was everything to me. Without him, I lost my love for music..."

She was not expecting Erik to be interested in her talking about her father (rarely anyone did.) and yet he had his complete attention upon her. She could see it in his eyes- even the one hidden within the hole of the mask seemed to be looking at her, rather than through her.

"You are very fortunate." He finally spoke as he returned the locket to her. "There are people who go their whole lives without any sort of love- especially the familial love you shared with your father."

"I have a strange feeling he would have liked you." Christine gave him a weak smile. "You seem to be a musician yourself, based on what little I know of you so far."

Erik only smiled, before he began to sing for her.

The voice that he produced was not what Christine was expecting: it was a perfect tenor voice, and yet there was something much more about it. There was a richness to his voice that was almost heavenly to hear- one moment, it was as if his voice was like a gentle caress, and the next, it was mightier than a storm. There was a passion in it that she rarely heard, if at all, and yet it sounded as if it could contain all the sorrow and anguish of the world and she was feeling her heart clench against her will.

She couldn't even register what song he was singing, but only the way he sang it, and she wanted to keep hearing that wonderful voice. For a few minutes, he sang for her, before he finally ended the song almost all too soon and glanced to her again, to see that she was staring at him as if she were under a spell.

"Music is my passion too." Erik confessed to her. "I consider myself a master in many arts, but the music is always first and foremost. To lose it would be to lose any joy I could ever be able to find in this world."

Christine was still staring at him in wonder as she took in her words. She became aware that she still held the locket in her hand, before she was struck with a thought and looked at it.

There could not have been a coincidence that she lost her locket and found it in the same place where she found Erik. This was a sign for something, and she realized what it meant now.

"...You're the Angel of Music." Christine's eyes widened as she breathlessly spoke. " _You're_ the Angel my father promised to me." She glanced up to Erik.

"I'm _not_ an angel." Erik didn't appear to be comfortable by this. "I am far from one-"

"But I found the locket and then I found you!" Christine almost flew to Erik and grabbed his arm. "Maybe our meeting wasn't an accident! Maybe my father kept his promise after all!" Something was awakening inside Christine- something she thought was long gone. She felt hope being returned to her once more, and it was almost overwhelming.

As for Erik, he was torn between hearing what this young woman was saying, and the fact that she was physically touching him- grabbing his arm as if seeking reassurance instead of causing him deliberate harm. He couldn't believe that this girl was believing him to be some sort of genuine saint in disguise, instead of the opposite.

"If I wish for it," Christine almost pleaded. "Could you fulfill my father's promise and teach me? I want to have that joy again, and I want to honor my father's memory, instead of drowning within it. Please Erik- can I wish for this, if I can wish for anything in the world?"

Erik stared at Christine. This girl, who was so like him, and yet not quite had seemed almost dead, but now she seemed alive, and he knew that if she showed this in her voice- her voice that held so much promise, like a diamond in the rough- then maybe she could become something far beyond her own imagination.

And for the first time in a long time, he was willing to obey the accursed role that was thrusted upon him.

"I can, Christine." He assured her as he took her hand and held it up. "Of all the wishes I have granted, this is among the very few I desire to grant. I cannot promise you that I can make your voice into perfection within a day- it would take a few years, by the sound of your voice- and you have to obey my instructions until we are through. I can't grant you the other two wishes during this time, so you have to be absolutely sure you want this. There is no going back once you make the wish."

Christine only smiled and wordlessly, she took the gold band off her finger and placed it in her pocket, before she faced him again.

"I wish," She began with all the confidence she now possessed. "for you to act as my Angel of Music and to give me voice lessons for as long as you see it fit."

Erik closed his eyes for a moment, before he finally smiled: a real, genuine smile that the the misfortune to be partially hidden under the mask.

"Your wish is my command." He assured her.

He then opened his eyes and looked her in the eye. "I expect you to be ready at an appointed time, here in this chapel from now on. We may start tomorrow, on your day off, and we will figure it out from there."

Christine let out a delighted gasp and clasped her hands to her heart. "Thank you- thank you so much!"

* * *

And so, on the following afternoon, Christine found that Erik _somehow_ managed to fit a piano in one of the abandoned dressing rooms that would normally house one of the leads- specifically, a fellow soprano.

"How on earth did you-?" Christine gestured in confusion at the piano.

"Surely you won't make me say the word, will you?" Erik asked as he sat at the seat of the piano while organizing the music that he himself was providing. He had removed his outer robe and replaced it with a more causal buttoned up white shirt with rolled up sleeves and a black vest, and he looked a lot less otherworldly and more ordinary. Christine thought that if it wasn't for the fact that he still wore the half mask (for whatever mysterious reason) he would completely look like a normal person.

"But won't anyone here us?" Christine asked. "This room isn't exactly sound-proof. You can hear from beyond the doors."

"I took care of that." Erik merely replied. "No one will hear what is going on inside this room, unless I want them to." He then got up and walked around the piano until he found the spot that he wanted her to stand on- it was to his left, where she wouldn't get distracted by the mask (or anything unpleasant that he was unable to hide from the naked eye), and where he could easily see her. "This is where I will be able to watch and critique you." He told her as he grabbed a music stand and placed it there, and waited until she obeyed his instructions.

"Wait a moment." He held a hand up. "One more thing."

He walked behind her and hesitated for a moment, before he adjusted her shoulders and made actual physical contact with her. It almost sacred him, and he had to mentally tell himself that she was going to be his student, and not one of the very few women he ever touched, if at all. Even Christine glanced at one of her shoulders and watched as he helped fix her position.

"Stand straight- from now on, you will hold yourself like a queen as you sing, but you will keep your knees slightly bent." He told her. "If you lock them together you will eventually faint, and be sure that your feet are comfortably spaced apart, instead of together."

"Yes." Christine obeyed, but almost gasped when one of his hands touched her chin and gently lifted it to a comfortable position. It felt strange to her, and yet it felt oddly pleasing, but she didn't dare show it when Erik turned to face her. She didn't want him to think that she had enjoyed that contact, but she had no idea that Erik himself had never done such a gesture until now, and he was desperately trying not to dwell on any of this at the moment.

"There- that's a good starting point. Posture is just as important as being able to breath and have strength to sustain the notes."

"Raise your arms out." He told her. "Feel your diaphragm and rib cage raise up and out, but as you lower your arms, make sure everything within stays up."

"Like this?" Christine raised her arms halfway up, like Marguerite asking for deliverance to heaven and felt everything come into place before she dropped them.

"You'll improve in time." Erik assured her, before he transferred some of the music from the piano to Christine's stand and sat at the piano.

His fingers were almost twitching in anticipation over the keys- he was about to be like a god and change something with much potential into something even more beautiful. Was this how Pygmalion felt, before he sculpted Galatea?

"Follow my lead." He gently commanded her as yellow eyes met blue eyes. "I want to see what your range is. Sing for me, Christine."

The first chords played, and the warm up octaves began, as the student obeyed the teacher and gave him her first notes. A simple suspense arose as the voice gradually raised up with each passing half note before dropping down again. Gradually, the voice raised higher and higher, from alto, to mezzo, to soprano, though it gradually became weaker without the strength to support it, and Christine had to stop before she could go any higher.

And yet, Erik could still hear far more promise in Christine's voice: she was destined to become great, and maybe one day outshine Carlotta until she would only be an annoying memory.

He was going to make sure that the voice given to him would reach it's maximal potential, no matter how long it would take. He would make sure that nothing would stand between Christine and her future, no matter what.

* * *

 **Yay for mischievous Erik and a free music lesson! (sort of?) I used to do a lot of choir and I performed in a few community operas(!), so I hope I'm staying accurate. I admit, since I'm writing Erik, it would be fun to pass on my knowledge of singing to anyone who would like to learn through him.**

 **Man, it's tricky to write some of this out, when everyone has had their own takes on it. Still, it's fun to try to see how everything fell into place for these two in the first place, and take it from there.**

 **Reviews are appreciated, but I won't demand them like Erik likes to demand for 20,000 francs: however, if I somehow miss the fact that I accidentally make someone speak in 21st century slang and fail to catch it, I would like that very much.**


	5. Promise

EDIT: I can't believe I made that speech about correcting errors, only to find out that I missed them in this chapter! I went back to fix this, but I am ashamed of myself for not taking time to look.

 **It's really easy to forget the Aladdin aspects of this fic, and this was especially a case for this chapter. Every time Christine is referred to as 'Mistress' I want to laugh and wonder if I'm still writing Skyward Swaps.**

 **I see that I made some spelling errors in previous chapters and I'll try to do my best to correct them. I always hate coming back and finding out I made errors. :(**

 _ **Voi che sapete**_ **belongs to W.A. Mozart. Lyrics are presented in english.**

 **Unfortunately, I am having a hard time finding the name of the Act 2 finale waltz of Die Fledermaus by Johan Strauss II. If you wish to look it up, the best I can tell you is that I think it might also be called** _ **'Ha, welch ein Fest, welche Nacht voll Freud'**_ **but in this case, the lyrics are presented in english (and it might be a big helper in finding the song in question.)**

* * *

Chapter 5: Promise

 _Faust's_ run at the Opera House finally concluded as other productions emerged afterwards, but the mysterious notes and critiques didn't stop coming. Usually these notes happened when it was closer to the opening night of a new production, and they wouldn't stop coming during rehearsals.

It was then clear that whoever was making the notes wasn't doing it as a joke or out of spite, as this person was not only insistent on perfection, but was familiar enough with the arts to know what they were doing, and those who had a good ear for music were willing to let these incidents slide. Some finally just accepted the mysterious genius and allowed him to do as he pleased, while others were unnerved by him or chose to ignore his words.

To a select number of those who were more attuned to reality, they only noticed a particular change in Christine: as if something inside her had lit up, and the girl became less withdrawn and a bit more talkative around others. She took her position in the Opera a lot more seriously, and those with a good ear heard that her voice had improved considerably, while others noticed that she occasionally looked as if her head were in the clouds.

During ballet rehearsals, some of the dancers noticed that the young woman usually seemed anxious, as if waiting for that time period to be over, and yet there was sometimes a happy smile of anticipation on her face. She was prone to getting a scolding from the ballet mistress, though the woman was secretly pleased to see that Christine looked far more-light hearted now, compared to when she was first accepted into the Opera House many months ago.

"Maybe she's found herself a suitor!" Suzanne giggled behind her hand to Jammes and Peter (one of the few male members of the corps de ballet.) "There's no way someone would look that happy or that dreamy eyed in such a short amount of time, unless they were in love. I've seen my sister act that same way when she was pinning for a certain gentleman."

"I don't think so." Peter disagreed. "How often does she go out and come back alone?"

"But that singing!" Jammes narrowed her eyes at Christine as the girl sat down and rested for a moment. "You can hear hear sing to herself when she thinks we can't hear, and it sounds better than it used to be. Surely something happened to her!"

Meg heard this gossip from nearby and tried to fight her hardest to fight back her words. She had a bad tendency to say things that were supposed to be kept a secret, and she didn't want to get anyone in trouble because of it. However, the gossip was almost laugh-worthy and she wondered if she could tell Christine as a word of caution.

Meg glanced over to her mother and was debating something important. It was very peculiar that she and Christine stumbled upon a secret passage in the Opera House, which somehow lead to a room of mirrors, and she had never heard of such a room before. Her mother never spoke of such things, and her father helped with the construction of the Opera House back in the 1860's and a little bit of the last decade, before his passing away.

Christine was not the only one to lose an important family member: Meg once had a younger sister who didn't survive past her fifth year due to an illness, and her own father died from a gunshot wound when the Franco-Prussian War fell upon Paris.

According to her mother, anyone dear to her seemed to either be destined to do great things or die tragically, and yet she still managed to press on through life because she knew she had to, for both their sakes.

Meg pushed those thoughts aside and thought back to that room. If she dared ask her mother if she knew anything about secret passages, she would immediately become suspicious, and if she learned that Meg and Christine were close to dying together in a room sealed off from the rest of the world, she wouldn't let either of them out of her sight for the rest of their lives, or until the woman finally breathed her last breath.

And of course, Meg would have explain how they were able to escape, and there was no telling how she could explain it without looking like a mad woman, or invoking the anger of a _certain_ jinn.

Once practice was over, Meg watched carefully as Christine glanced to the clock in alarm and hurried to change out of her practice clothes and into a modest dress, before eagerly hurrying to the dormitories. For every five days in a good week that didn't involve further practice or rehearsals, Christine carefully reached in a box under her bed that contained a few precious objects, and reached for a garish looking bottle before carefully tucking it in her dress pockets or within the folds of her dress, and she would occasionally grab sheet music, before making her way into one of the out-of-use dressing rooms. She would never return to the real world until an hour and a half later, and either emerge out of it looking like she either made a grand discovery, or looked incredibly fatigued and was about ready to collapse.

Meg knew what Christine was up to: she confided to her that she made her first wish and what she had to do from then on. Meg was surprised at first, but when she saw how happy her friend looked, she decided that perhaps it was for the best.

Although, she herself decided that she would work twice as hard to become Prima Ballerina. If her friend was working her way to become the new Prima Donna, then she herself should put in some effort to keep up with her.

* * *

The music abruptly stopped and she cut her whole note into a quarter note in retaliation.

"That was a sharp, not a flat." Erik played the note on the piano in the pitch that she was supposed to sing as a reminder.

Christine took a deep breath and fought the urge to smack something (namely, her face). She was aware of just how much of a perfectionist Erik was, but it tended to get incredibly bothersome. The worst case was when he seemed to get too consumed by making _everything_ perfect down to the very breath she took and he would constantly stop or when he would suddenly get irritated and be prone to snapping at her. She didn't like it when he started the latter of the two, but then he would quickly regain his composure and apologize when he saw how uncomfortable she looked, and they would continue on: in a strange way, he looked as if he thought that he was scaring her, and had to fix the situation as quickly as possible.

He was definitely an irritable genius at his worst, but there were times where he seemed to be more obsessed with her voice than with it's owner, and that was where the need for perfection came through the most.

In this case, on this particular day, Erik was catching more errors that she was making, but this was because- like with the many songs she first started when working with him- she was singing something that was unfamiliar to her.

"Should we take a break from this piece and move on to Cherubino's song?" Christine tried to bargain. That was one of the songs that they had been working on since the beginning, and while Erik considered it a sort of song in which to help warm her voice up and provide her voice with depth, it was one that he seemed rather interested in having her learn and perfect, despite how he wanted her to learn songs that were above the range of the song.

"Finish this one, and we can revisit it." Erik somewhat compromised. This time, he played the correct note for her, and she was able to continue on with singing the song. Her pronunciations of the language was still in need of attention, but the song sounded better than it did many minutes ago.

It was after Christine sang Cherubino's song that he finally decided to take a new step in the preparations for the future. She finally mastered the song until it was her own, but there was one more thing he needed her to do with it, before he can release her from it.

"How long has it been since you've sang on your own in front of an audience?" He asked.

Christine felt a dread take ahold of her as she tried to recall when that was. "Well... I used to sing along with my father, and I did sing a couple of songs at the conservatoire. Why do you ask?"

Erik didn't seem pleased by that and yet he answered her question. "There's a cafe near the Opera House where they allow performers to entertain the customers. You're to sing that song for them tomorrow in the afternoon."

The dread in Christine's heart made her blood turn to ice.

"But it's been so long since I've sang publicly in front of that many people!" She protested. "And tomorrow afternoon? That's such short notice! What if I lose my nerve?! And I thought you didn't want me to use my full voice outside of this room until I was ready!"

"I _don't_ want you to use your full potential outside this room." Erik confirmed. "Believe me, there's a reason for that. However, you need the experience of being on stage by yourself, instead of mingling with the chorus, and the sooner you get over the stage fright, the better prepared you will be for the future."

"In fact, this song might be a good starting point for a case like this." He turned his head to the sheet music and Christine was granted a side profile of the (mostly) unmasked side of his face. "A person confused about their feelings towards someone they love is practically confessing it to her and those who are also in the room with her: I think that would be a perfect time to work on your acting. It will be impossible to pretend that the audience doesn't exist, but if you pretend that you truly are Cherubino singing to the Countess and Susanna, than it will be easier to fall into the illusion you will create for your audience."

"And what if I fail?" Christine nervously asked. "What should I do if I make a mistake and make a fool of myself?"

"Then you'll have to try again when I think it's time."

 _That's not helpful._ Christine wanted to say.

"However..." Erik added as he realized he made a mistake in giving her any real encouragement. "If you make a mistake, just continue on as if nothing happened. It is better to keep your dignity and continue, than to falter and stop."

"Are... are you really sure I am ready do this on my own?" Christine asked.

"You said yourself that you used to sing with your father, when it was just the two of you together, and you have to be onstage for hundreds of patrons and audience members almost every single night. And of course, after the lessons I've given you so far, I should believe that you are more prepared than you think."

* * *

And so, on that following day, Christine found herself amongst the visitors and customers of the cafe and she stared nervously at the small stage, where a piano was resting against one of the walls. Despite how many times she told herself to stop, she could feel her heart pounding and her nerves were twitching.

"You can do this." Meg assured her friend and gave her hand a small grip. "I know you can."

"I feel like I'm being thrown into a den of lions." Christine muttered as she glanced out at the customers, who were chatting on in their pleasant talks, with little to worry about, while a server occasionally came out to tend to their needs.

 _Breathe._ Christine told herself as she went over what she learned in her head. _Try to think of your character- pretend that you are singing to the Countess and Susanna. Pretend you are a lovesick fool. Pretend you are in the house of the Count and Countess-_

"Mademoiselle?" One of the staff members quietly approached the young woman. "You are on."

Christine flinched and she glanced to the stage as a woman whose face was heavily covered by the black veil on her hat, that cascaded down around her head, sat at the piano seat. The woman organized the sheet music, and glanced to Christine as she waited to accompany the girl.

Christine took another breath. _This is for you, father._

She walked up onto the stage and gripped her hands: some of the audience were already watching on, while others still went about their way. Christine organized herself into the proper singing position and spoke out:

"I am Christine Daae, and I shall be singing _Voi che sapate_ from Mozart's _The Marriage of Figaro_."

She nodded to the accompanist, who then turned and began to play the first upbeat notes of the song. She allowed her mind to set up the setting- she pretended that Susanna and the Countess were out there in the audience- and her mindset changed from that of the nervous Christine Daae to the lovesick Cherubino.

" _You ladies, who know what love is, see if it is what I have in my heart. See if it is what I have in my heart."_

The customers completely gave their attention to the singer when they heard her sing. They were not expecting her to sing with such emotion- such longing and such anguish, and yet it wasn't over the top like most others would try to attempt. There was such richness in that voice, and yet it had a simple sweetness that was lovely to listen to.

Meg gave her friend her full attention, and she was shocked. How long had it been since Christine started her lessons? Two months? Three? It was almost like she was hearing a different person!

Christine was unaware of such things as she continued to sing. She almost missed a note at one point, and almost mispronounced a word but she caught it and continued on.

And yet, despite the fears that she had to fight with, she could feel that wondrous joy of singing within her soul, and she could not stop herself. She had to sing this song the whole way through and a part of her was enjoying every note and every moment of it.

It was not a long song, after having sung it so many times, but it almost felt like an eternity on stage, and when she finally finished the song, she wanted to collapse and run off when reality fell into place, and yet she stayed still and waited to see how her audience would react.

The enthusiastic applause felt incredible: no one stood up to clap, save for one woman in her senior years, but the response to her performance felt wonderful beyond words, and she almost couldn't believe what she had just accomplished.

Christine felt giddy and yet she politely bowed in appreciation, before gesturing to her accompanist in recognition for her contribution, before she practically flew to Meg's side, only for a few patrons to come over and offer their praises.

"You sang so perfectly Mademoiselle!" A woman approached her. "Are you a member of the Opera by chance?"

"Your voice is beautiful." A young man shyly smiled.

"That was the best rendition of that song that I have ever heard, my dear." The older woman who stood up to clap for Christine beamed. "It's been years since I've heard someone give it proper justice."

Moments passed before Christine was _finally_ free to escape her audience and approach her friend.

"That was incredible!" Meg squeezed the girl in her embrace and was almost hopping on her feet. "You'll land a role in the Opera House in no time flat!"

"That is, if I can." Christine's voice was trembling. "I might have made a mistake or two-"

"Who cares?!" Meg beamed. "That was wonderful for your first time alone!"

The accompanist approached the young women, with sheet music in hand and watched as they finally parted ways. Christine turned to the veiled woman and gave her an appreciative smile. "Thank you."

"Oh, and who is this?" Meg glanced to the woman in curiousity.

"Someone you already know." A very masculine voice spoke through the veil.

Meg's reaction was pure comedic shock. Her eyes almost bulged out the moment she first heard the voice, and when recognition kicked in she let out a violent shudder and twitched her head and hands.

* * *

"Warn us before you turn into a woman!"

Christine silently watched the little drama unfold in the safety of the dressing room as Meg scolded Erik, who seemed to take it without any complaint.

"I might have entertained that idea with Christine." Erik glanced to Christine as he reminded the brunette about the time in the alleyway. "And I'm pleased to see that my hypothesis was proven correct."

"You turned yourself into a woman," Meg began "and you didn't bother to change your voice. Have you any idea how unsettling that is? I'm actually relieved that I couldn't see your face, because I don't know if I would get over _seeing_ it!"

"And this is coming from a young woman who not only enjoys reading Edgar Allen Poe's works, but also delights in telling ghost stories and braved the lower levels of the Opera House?" Erik raised an eyebrow (the visible one) at her.

"There's a difference between horror and creepiness, Monseiur Erik!" Meg scowled.

"So little Meg thinks Erik can't tell the difference between the two?" The masked man seemed to be enjoying this. "Fine, Erik shall warn you in the future that if he is to provide accompaniment for your friend in the guise of a woman you will refer to Erik as 'Madame Cayette' who will also happen to be a mute. Does that ease your mind?"

Meg opened her mouth and made to say something as she pointed a finger at him but then paused and gave up.

"If it's any consolation, perhaps the current Mistress of the bottle will lend it to you when you have a wish you want to be fulfilled."

"I give up." Meg flicked her hands in the air in near defeat. "Christine, until he fulfills your wish, I wish you the best of luck with him." The student and tutor watched as Meg quickly left the dressing room, and the ballerina hurried away from it, while almost bumping into the young Rosina, who was distracted by reading her own copy of _Wuthering Heights_ in her hands (the girl made it her personal goal to read a book by each of the Bronte sisters.)

A moment of silence fell in the dressing room.

"I wasn't joking about the wish." Erik told Christine. "I owe the girl a favor for her part in finding me as much as I do towards you."

"Why do you insist on acting like an annoying brother to Meg?" Christine wondered. "It's a miracle she hasn't convinced me to abandon you."

"She reminds me of an old friend of mine, if such a word can be used." Erik merely replied. "Of course, we must cease talking about her and discuss your accomplishments."

"So?" Erik crossed his arms and leaned against the wall of the dressing room. "How did it feel to perform on your own?"

"It was scary." Christine admitted. "I was able to do all you asked of me, but I know I made a few mistakes, and I couldn't stop my heart from pounding." She placed a hand over her heart as she recalled that terrible moment. "I hope it will stop, by the time I'm ready for-"

"It won't stop."

Christine glanced up as Erik confessed. "That feeling is never going to go away. You will always feel like running away, and yet when you push yourself to go out, the rest eventually follows suit: that is what it means to be in front of a crowd. And yet," He smiled at her "You did remarkably well for your performance. I hope that it has instilled some confidence in you."

Christine returned the smile. She did feel somewhat more confident after what she went through, and she felt a sense of pleasure in pleasing her tutor.

"You must have performed quite a lot in your time." Christine gave him a small smirk. "Or at least that's what I hope I'm correctly assuming."

What amount of the smile that was visible to her dropped to a thin line.

"Much of what I've done requires me to put on a facade in the face of the public." Erik told her, though he seemed rather hesitant in his words. "And of course, in my 'profession' I've had to do the same thing, no matter how horrible the Master or Mistress was- one of which I'd especially like to forget." He grimaced at the thought of the person in mind.

Christine found herself gazing at the white half mask, thanks to the prompting of Erik's words: even now she still hadn't seen him without it, and there was a burning curiosity to find out why he wore it, but she had grown to accept that it was there for a good reason. In a way, it looked like a part of his own face, and a part of her was fine with that.

"I wonder if I should demand a salary."

"What?" Christine was snapped out of her thoughts at this odd thing.

"Considering how much I've done to assist them, you'd think I should be getting paid for it." Erik casually held a hand out. "Otherwise, I'd have taken it out of their own pockets by now."

"Wait a minute." Christine demanded. "You're not going to steal from the manager, are you? And why would you even need money when you can conjure it up for yourself?"

"Everything that I can conjure up must already exist, remember?" He reminded her. "The paper and pen I've been using came from elsewhere, and any money I retrieve will come from another's pocket. I think you can guess how many people before you desired to be rich, and how many members of the upper class would find that a fraction of their money had disappeared overnight."

"Then how much are you going to demand from LeFevere?"

"I'm considering... twenty thousand francs."

Christine felt that if she was an old woman, then she would have died from a heart attack. "That's more than even I make! I can't guess how many tickets would have to be sold to cover that amount! And what about trying to keep yourself a secret to the world?" Christine demanded. "Wouldn't it look suspicious if a mystery critic demanded money without revealing himself? It's bad enough that you decided to start telling everyone what we need to work on, but demand that large of a sum for it?!"

Christine felt a little triumphant when Erik became speechless and he realized she had a point.

"Fine, I see your point, Mademoiselle." Erik held his hands up in surrender. "But you do realize that if I have need of something, it would look incredibly suspicious if a certain amount of money disappeared from the banks of Paris or from someone else's wallet without any explanation. "

"But no body would figure it out! I mean I'm not _saying_ it's fine to steal, but-"

Erik just smirked. "You can be very amusing, you know. However, I can guarantee that there is always bound to be someone who knows how I go about these things, and I will be found out sooner or later. It's no doubt that LeFevere will complain and protest, but eventually I will have need of material goods."

"And _why_ on earth would a jinn need money?"

"Perhaps Erik will feel generous and not resort to stealing. Perhaps Erik might have need of it in the future to protect himself."

That certain quirk of his came back with a vengeance.

"Do as you please." Christine sighed and gave up. "I'd almost rather not know what is going on, but there's no stopping you, is there?"

"If it's any consolation, know that Erik is at least trying to be honorable for his Mistress's sake."

* * *

Things became much more interesting when a guest soprano joined the Opera for the following production of _Die Fledermaus_.

The opera itself had three acts and the chorus was heavily featured in act two and briefly in the finale of act three, and while it changed Christine's schedule, the guest soprano- a Mlle. Sarah Danvers from the United Kingdom- took the abandoned dressing room, and forced Christine and her tutor to seek out the chapel instead. This meant that a violin had to be used instead of a piano to help with her lessons, but it was the best that either of them could come up with.

For Erik, this was the opportunity he needed to see what Carlotta would be like if she had competition, and he was very well rewarded in that time period.

He was present, but unseen when the leads were rehearsing, and it was obvious that Carlotta was bitter at the idea of sharing a stage with another soprano. Her Rosalinde lacked the charm that Sarah's Adele had, in addition to the pleasing high notes that she produced. Had things been much different or if this production came later on, Erik would have almost considered having Christine in the role of Adele, except she was not ready to produce the high notes of the Laughing Song, and Carlotta passed a lot of snide remarks at Sarah's expense. The woman was able to laugh them off or shake her head and say something in english in regards to the diva's behavior, but he wasn't sure if Christine could have lasted under that sort of pressure.

There was another thing he didn't like: Carlotta was prone to leaving the stage in a huff and would refuse to appear that night or she would suddenly claim illness, but if her understudy came in to take her place, she would immediately come back the next day in perfect health and would be ready to attack the understudy.

Heaven knew what would have happened if Erik encouraged Christine to audition for the role of Ida or the Prince. Even though Christine could easily perform both roles, despite the fact that she was destined to perform in far more superior roles, there was a chance that if Carlotta even so much as sensed the change in the chorus girl, or heard that she was improving her voice, she would probably start attacking the girl out of fear and jealousy.

From then on, unknown to all the human members of the Opera House, a war fell upon the diva's head.

The first call to action came when Carlotta was singing the Hungarian air that the masked Rosalinde had to sing, in order to deceive the guests and her husband into believing that she was truly a Hungarian Countess. With the added fact that she wore a mask, Erik could not have found the opera's themes of deception and revenge more amusing or more accurate.

Luckily, there were just a few leads practicing their solos that day, while the stage hands were busy with the sets. There was no one else to hold him back- not even his Mistress was aware of his other plans for her future. There wasn't anyone up in the rafters, and Erik found a sandbag that served as a weight. With his black robes, he might as well have been 'Die Fledermaus' or 'The Bat' and not the man playing Falke down below with the others, and yet this particular bat was keeping a hold on the rope of the sand bag and his prey was not Eisenstein, but a certain diva who was right under him.

He patiently waited in the rafters as Carlotta tried (and failed) to sing what should have been a pleasant song.

He waited... and waited...

Finally, she was getting to the point of projecting out a certain high note, and he tossed the bag out into the air and leaned over to watch as it descended right next to Carlotta's right side. Upon impact, the bag broke open and sand came spilling out right onto the floor and on the diva's dress.

The woman let out a hilarious shriek when the moment happened, and Erik had to fight the urge to laugh as the scared-out-of-her-mind woman practically danced across the stage and yelled profanities in her native tongue, while the others almost jumped out of their spots. In his panic, Reyer threw his baton so hard that it must have soared over the orchestra pit twenty rows of red seats (Erik respected Reyer, who seemed to take his job very seriously and had no tolerance for foolishness) and the man who played Falke let out a scream so high in pitch that he must have been a falsetto and not a baritone. Only Piangi and a few women seemed concerned for Carlotta's safety, and the Italian tenor was practically at the woman's side and was trying to reassure her, while yelling for someone to bring out those responsible for the object that almost killed the diva.

Erik wouldn't try to kill the woman, but if he made her superstitious enough, or at least if he rattled her nerves just right, then Christine would easily replace the woman when the time came. That or she would quit her job and be replaced by someone far more suitable for the position of lead soprano, in which case his job would become far more difficult than it already was.

Erik then realized that his Mistress was due for another lesson at any minute and he forced himself to be as stoic as he could be on the side of his face that wasn't masked, before he disappeared from the rafters. If she saw him smiling like a fool, she would want to know why, and he didn't want her to know that she was getting rid of her future competition.

* * *

" _Ah happy day of divine delight!"_ Christine joyously sang and twirled around in the chapel room as Erik watched on. _"Love and champagne banish care from sight! Could we live on as we do tonight-"_

" _-then life would be forever gay and bright."_ Erik's voice joined in and briefly turned the girl's solo into a duet.

The singer turned towards him and let out an awkward laugh. "I'm sorry, I just can't stop!"

The opening night was a success, and the Act II finale of the opera had become a quick favorite amongst the chorus and the dancers, who had to perform a waltz. Christine especially enjoyed the song and could not get it out of her head, much less stop singing it outside practice.

"The chorus wasn't on for very long, but the music is wonderful." Christine beamed. "The story was full of deception and it did have a touch of infidelity, but the songs are incredible and I wanted to keep dancing the whole night away long after we were done!"

"The Waltz King himself has a gift for that." Erik agreed. "Although I doubted Carlotta's take on Rosalinde would have pleased Strauss."

Christine then sat down on the stone floor and looked at her companion with curiosity.

"You know, I don't know that much about you Erik." Christine confessed. "You're a jinn, you know so much about music, and you have a tendency to rely on trickery and speak in third person when you want to play with someone's mind- yes, you do that." Christine pointed when Erik shot her an amused look. "I've told you so much about myself, and yet there's still so little I know of you. You have a name that sounds Scandinavian, so you might also share a similar ancestry with me-"

"That would be debatable."

"I mean, for all I know, you've seen the entire world, and you've meet every single king or emperor." She continued. "Just what kind of things have you done in your life? Where did you learn to sing or play such wonderful music?"

Whatever mirth was still in Erik vanished in an instant. What little of his face that was exposed to Christine suddenly became cold and ridged, and he turned away from her to face a painting of Christ upon the wall.

"I... I'm sorry." Christine sensed that something was amiss. "I was only curious. If there is something I shouldn't have said-"

"My life isn't one I would easily share to just anyone." He flatly told her. "It isn't one worth telling to the world."

"Am I just 'anyone' then?" Christine felt hurt by those words. "You seem to regard me as some sort of saint, and yet I'm not perfect myself. Lord knows how my life could have been if I was perfect."

There was a tense silence that fell in the room- one was waiting, and another was debating.

Erik finally let out a sigh, though he still chose not to face her.

"My parents hated me from the very moment I came into existence: to them, I was their greatest failure and they made sure that I knew it. They tried to hide me from the rest of the world and my name was given purely by accident. Eventually my father died in an accident within his professional career- he was a master-mason- but it made my mother even more colder towards me than she ever had been."

Christine was stunned by this reveal. How could someone so incredible have had a life that terrible at a young age?

"I became fascinated with connecting sounds together to create beauty, and that was where my love of music began. A friend of my mother's, who also happened to be my private tutor, convinced her to allow the local pianist to teach me, but that wasn't all- the pianist was also a retired opera singer and helped to nurture what singing ability I possessed back then. Of course, my mother was terrified of my talent- she thought I wasn't her own child, but a siren out for her life. Any time I spent away from her and with music or any sort of medium in which I could create and be myself were the true highlights of my childhood."

"What happened to her?" Christine wondered. "You make her sound as if she were an evil mother out of a fairy tale."

"I finally left my home for good." Erik's voice held a bitter triumph. "I had longed believed that I could somehow make her love me, but the very moment she proved me wrong and made it clear that she would never so much as kiss me out of love, I was able to escape with only a few possessions to my name in the dead of night. I would not find out until later that she moved on with her life and died many years after I finally escaped from her."

"That's horrible." Christine murmured. She realized just how fortunate she was for her father to have loved her, despite all their hardships, in comparison to a story such as this. "So what happened next?" Christine glanced up in wonder. "Did your life become any better?"

There was another pause.

Then Erik let out a mad, horrible laugh that made Christine's skin crawl: it was a laugh that contained such bitterness, such weariness, and such anger that Christine started to feel rather afraid of him, and she didn't like it. This was not the same person that she knew: the one who nurtured her music and treated Meg like a younger sister. This was someone _much_ darker.

"My whole life has been one of imprisonment, hiding, or being forced to do things I haven't enjoyed, Christine." Erik finally told her, as if it were an important fact of the world. "It's almost incredible just how _selfish_ or so _blinded_ by the unnatural that the whole of the human race can be. It doesn't matter which cage you're in- for all the gifts you are given, an equal amount must be denied from you."

"What do you mean by that?" Christine was confused. "Do you hate being a jinn?"

"That's the interesting part of this whole quandary, isn't it?!" Erik replied with a shake of his head. "It grants me a freedom to walk amongst everyone else and have a power over them, yet I'm still denied the joys of it all! I'm _still_ forced to do things against my will and reveal the truth to those who come across it, as long as I am bound to a prison in one way or another!"

"I've made women faint, and I've made grown men scream in fear of me, Christine. I have been made to destroy others lives by by own hand, rather than save them from ruin. In turn, I have grown to hate all of humanity. That is all I can tell you, or would you like me to reveal more and for you to turn away from me, like those simple minded people?"

"Do you honestly believe that I'm like them?!" Christine, who was now really hurt by those words, snapped. "Are you going to compare me to your own mother and say that I'm no different than her?! I wasn't afraid of you until you let out that laugh just a moment ago and told me that humanity is completely worthless!"

He didn't respond.

Christine tried calm down and try to comprehend Erik's words. Why did he have to make them simple and yet so difficult? It was frustrating!

What was the key to all of this?

"A life of hiding and imprisonment..." She thought out loud. "You hate humanity because they can make you commit horrible acts, and they fear you... and though you have much power at your disposal, you can't enjoy it... you feel trapped..."

Erik froze: she couldn't have figured it out by now, could she?

Christine began to wonder. "Erik... do you wish to be free?"

Erik almost sighed out in relief. He was thankful that she was still naive to the truth, but still, he was touched by her kindness.

"If I were free, I would lose my power, but I would no longer be bound to anyone else and could do as I wished." Erik finally turned to face her. "However, a part of me prefers the isolation and power because nothing would have changed. I would be normal- I would be like you." He quickly corrected himself. "Except there is nothing in this world worth having freedom for. I can't grant my own wishes- it goes against the laws."

Christine didn't know whether to pity him or shake him or not being clear enough. It felt like he was trying to dodge something important when he told her about himself, and yet he sounded like he was fed up with the world and completely gave up on it. She wanted to know why... and a part of her wanted to know if there was a way to remedy that.

"What would be worth having freedom?" Christine quietly asked. "If not that then what else? What would make your life worth living amongst us, if you hate us so much?"

Erik stared at her, but there was a sense of helplessness in them."I can't answer that."

"Why?" Christine demanded.

"Because... sometimes the truth isn't what you want to know." Erik could only tell her. "I value what time we have spent together, but if you knew the truth-" Erik felt his heart tighten up in pain at the idea of what would happen. "-you will wish to run from me in fear, and never spend time with me ever again. And try as you might, I am not ready to tell you the truth- not now, and most likely not ever at all."

"You have so much trust in me." Christine's voice became quiet. "But you can't trust me with even that?"

He couldn't tell her, and the lack of response only confirmed her suspicions. Still, a part of her wanted to be fair, because she wanted to gain his complete trust in her. She wanted to know who Erik really was as a person, and she wanted to help him, if there was something she could do.

"When you believe that my voice is ready for all of the world to hear, I will be able to wish again." Christine began. "I don't know what else to wish for, but I swear to use my last wish to give you the thing you desire most."

"Only for you to be freed from me." Erik replied.

"Then you must tell me what it is that you wish for the most." Christine replied. "When the time comes, I hope you can trust me enough to tell you what it is that is causing you this much distress. What I am trying to say is... that you have done so much for me, and I want to repay you when the time is ready. If what you want is something that you don't need after all or if you find it in time, then I'll free you so that you wont have to answer to anyone ever again."

Erik was quiet and yet he seemed as if he couldn't believe what he had just heard. Was the girl that serious? Would she be willing to make that sacrifice for him, when no one else would even dream of it?

"Christine-" He tried to find the words. "-If-" He took a deep breath. "-I don't know if-"

"Erik I am serious." Christine firmly told him. "I will keep my word. I will respect your privacy, if you desire it, but if you need to tell me anything, I will listen- I don't want you to be afraid of me."

And without any warning, the young woman rushed to him and gave him the biggest hug she could manage. "Until we astonish Paris?" She asked.

He was afraid of her. He was afraid of what would happen if he would even dare tell her and then show her why she should turn from him in horror.

He was afraid of what she was doing to his heart. She was making him feel hope: something that might as well have never existed for him in the first place. But what was more wonderful and more terrifying, there was something else... something he dare wouldn't admit, even to himself.

But for now, he wanted to cherish what faith this talented, yet kind hearted singer had in him now, and what time they had together.

"Until we astonish Paris." He promised as he returned the hug.

* * *

 **I can't believe I'm bringing this gag into this fic, but...**

 **Outtake: a horrible punishment**

He patiently waited in the rafters as Carlotta tried (and failed) to sing what should have been a pleasant song.

He waited... and waited...

Finally, she was getting to the point of projecting out a certain high note, and he tossed the bag out into the air and leaned over to watch as it descended right next to-

-No it went right above her head-

...oh.

...

...Oh _damnit all to hell_. He groaned as the ensuing horrified screams rose up to his ears from the rafters above.

"Excuse me, Mr. Erik sir?"

He turned to see a woman in jinn clothing with a badge over her chest and a pen and paper. "You just violated rule 1: No killing while under a Master or Mistress's wish." She flatly told him as she wrote on a piece of paper.

"...Who are you?" He demanded.

"The Daroga of the jinn." She replied.

"Oh for God's sake, _another_ Daroga?!" He angrily yelled, causing the woman to flinch.

"Just doing my job pal." The jinn Daroga replied. "Look, we'll drop the charge on one condition."

"And?" Erik could not believe what was happening.

"You... were... commissioned to create some sort of torture chamber that uses music as a torturing device-" The jinn Daroga grimaced in disgust as she looked at the notes. "-for a fan fic called Twilight Twists. Dear gods, that sounds bad as it is, doesn't it? At least it's for a Legend of Zelda fan fic and not..."

Erik gave her a blank look as the screams continued down below.

"Look, I have no clue what's going on, ok?! My offer is a lot better than whatever else you would have to do, and anything involving fan fics is bad enough, right?!"

Somewhere in the Opera House, Meg felt an odd sense of satisfaction, but couldn't think of why.

* * *

 **I like Erik's playfulness- especially with Meg. I can't help but wonder: if he was closer to the Girys in the 2004 movie, would he have been Meg's surrogate uncle/godfather?**

 **Also, I featured Die Fledermaus because I was involved in a community production. It's really good, and I recommend checking into it, if you ever wanted to watch a good opera.**

 **Hmm... Erik's story seems pretty suspicious, doesn't it? It sounds like there's far more than what he's letting on. (Other than what's completely obvious to the readers, but not Christine.) And before you ask, no I haven't read Susan Kay's Phantom (unfortunately), but Erik's backstory was loosely inspired by what I do know of it.**

 **Ok, I promise the plot will pick pack up: we will jump ahead to 1881, which would be almost two years later...**


	6. The final test

Edited some things again. Raoul accidentally used modern lingo and I had to fix it.

 **It's been almost a whole month since I saw the musical and started writing this, and it's had close to 700 views since then! Thanks for sticking with it so far. :)**

 **Ok, I confess that outtake was pretty stupid, but I couldn't resist. And no: that's not the actual penalty for breaking the 'no killing rule.' We'll see if we get to that point, but the 'what-if' was hard to resist. (And I wrote the fan-fic that was mentioned- I have a bad tendency to make fun of myself now and then.)**

 **I discovered a rather good and positive review for the 2004 film by someone named PawDugan (?) and I believe it's under the Music Movies videos on youtube. It's worth a watch: it can get really funny, and especially considering how the reviewer mocks Raoul during the Final Lair scene.**

 **There are a lot of book references in this short chapter. How many will you notice? Let's read on!**

* * *

 **Chapter 6: The Final Test**

The year was now 1881; it had been almost three years since the Paris Opera House had acquired a new leading soprano, but it was also almost three years since two of it's members discovered a great secret within the cellars.

It was also almost three years since Raoul de Chagny left Paris. Today he once more walked amongst the members of Parisian society, and reunited with his older brother.

"It's wonderful to have you back." Philippe smiled as he drew his brother in an embrace. "Even though you wrote to me so often, it just isn't the same without your presence."

"So you do miss me!" Raoul gave Philippe a mischievous look. "And here I thought you were eager to keep your life as an eternal bachelor in check! Or is there something you are keeping from me?"

Philippe let out a laugh while the servants carried Raoul's belongings back into the house. "No, I still haven't been tied down just yet. You on the other hand, have about six months until you must go back to the sea, correct? We'll have to make the most of that time."

"Just like when we spent the last night together drinking our merry way to near oblivion." Raoul fondly recalled. "I don't think I want a repeat of _that_ again, but I would like to see how much Paris has changed since that night."

"Well, we do have much to discuss." Philippe lead his brother into the house and into the lounge, where two people were already seated.

"I invited a few friends over to welcome you back home." Philippe confessed. "I'm afraid both our sisters are too occupied to join us."

"That's fine." Raoul smiled, despite that it would have been pleasant to see either of the two again. Instead he turned his attention to the first member of the room, who looked as if he was glancing out of the window. "Auguste! How have you been?!" He greeted as he walked towards the man who was around his own exact age.

Auguste de Castelot-Barbezac was the son of the Baron de Castelot-Barbezac, but the man looked more suited for hard labor than rubbing elbows with society, and he certainly had the upper build for it. He had extremely hardened features, dark eyes that seemed to be ready to regard anyone with distain, and he had his mouth in a constant thin line. Raoul was an old childhood friend of the man, but it was a miracle that the two were still close, considering how unalike they were in tastes and personality.

"Raoul." Auguste pushed himself off the sofa and nodded. "I suspect you have a lot to talk about, in regards to the voyages to tried to force me into."

"You missed quite a lot!" Raoul smirked. "I'm curious as to what you did while I was off in the world."

"You tried to drag me across the sea and get to America."

"And?" Raoul raised an eyebrow.

"There's _nothing_ in America." Auguste sat back down on the sofa. "Nothing but empty lands and hypocrisy everywhere you go. My uncle tried to go all the way to San Francisco, but the idiots in charge of the expedition took a wrong turn and somehow ended up in some north bound town called 'Reading'... or 'Redding,' I honestly don't recall or even care anymore. Anyway, he said it was the most awful experience he had, and told me enough to turn me off from it."

"America wasn't _that_ bad." Raoul tried to reason as he heard the sound of feminine laughter and turned to see the other guest. It was a woman who appeared to be in her mid-twenties, with auburn hair, and she was dressed in white and wore a black chocker with a ruby placed upon it. She looked almost like a queen from out of a story book: she was was very fair skinned, and had brown-almost black eyes, but it was very evident that she was aware of her beauty and only modestly enhanced it, unlike most other woman of that current era.

Was this another one of Philippe's ladies?

"You're friend amuses me." She chuckled. "Considering France's involvement with America's history, I find the complaint rather charming."

"Oh yes, forgive me." Philippe walked over to the woman and helped her out of her seat. "Raoul, this is Mademoiselle Lilian Blanchett. She's an explorer, much like yourself- a researcher?" He glanced to the lady for clarification as she walked over to Raoul and held her hand out.

"Indeed." She gave Raoul a small smile as he took her hand and kissed it, out of politeness. "I have a fondness for myths and lore, and I'm hoping to compile my findings for a future project."

"Oh?" Raoul was interested by this as he let go of Lilian's hand. "What is it?"

Lilian gave the viscount a secretive smile. "Oh, I'm quite superstitious monsieur. I don't want to spoil the fun just yet."

"We actually met a few days ago." Philippe confessed as the lady sat back down. "Just by chance near the Seine- nothing too special, I'm afraid."

"Though Philippe has told me a lot about you." Lilian smiled as a slightly plump maid with eye glasses came out. The maid was looking down at the tray of tea in her hands, but she seemed rather annoyed by something.

"Oh yes, thank you." Lilian suddenly beamed at the maid as she set the tray down. "Darling dear, you look positively uncomfortable- is everything fine?"

"Fine." The maid hissed through her teeth in reply.

"Oh forgive her, my servant isn't fond of being in a social situation." Lilian laughed it off. Raoul watched as the maid walked out of the room, but not before shooting Lilian a rather dirty look when she was sure the woman wasn't looking. The look contained an intense hatred, and Raoul was slightly interested by this, but he decided to ignore it for now: it would be an amusing secret to keep in the meantime.

"On the other hand, I have some news to share." Philippe turned to Raoul as he sat back down. "Do you remember the Opera House? I have considered becoming a patron and supporter of the arts, and I was wondering if you would like to join with me."

Raoul smiled- he enjoyed the opera, and liked the sound of that. "Of course. But why the sudden interest?"

"The manager just retired and now there are two managers in his place." Philippe answered. "I suspect that the Opera will need some help staying on it's feet while they get used to the business of running it. From what I gather, one of them has a hand in business, while the other has slight experience in music, but not to a great extent. Plus, it would do some good for us if we lent them a hand."

"I bet La Sorelli would like that." Raoul grinned knowingly.

"Why bother?"

Everyone's attention went to Lilian, who seemed bored by the topic. "Music should be to listen to, not to sit through. I can only bear it for a few minutes, but I'd die if I had to sit through a performance for nearly four hours or so. I don't understand the need to expand upon it like that."

"You would be good friends with Auguste then." Philippe glanced to the man in question. "He's not a fan of Opera himself."

"I'm not fond of the _singing_." Auguste corrected. "Ever since they hired La Carlotta and Signor Piangi, I've avoided the place like the plague. I only go to enjoy the ballet: at least there's more to appreciate in the movement of the body, then hearing a poor musician on the stage."

He wanted to add that he wasn't fond of the Prima Ballerina in both her performances and as a person, but he knew of her connection to Philippe and wisely kept his mouth shut.

"Well, it's those who love music lovers against those who hate it." Raoul playfully sighed and threw his hands out. "Is there anything we can all do together at night?"

"I doubt our combination would work in any place like that." Auguste glanced at Lilian as he said this.

"What do you mean?" She asked.

"There are few places that can bring different minded people together." Auguste didn't want to expand upon what he meant by that.

"Well, perhaps we can gradually fix that." Philippe glanced to Raoul. "Lilian seemed interested in spending tomorrow evening with you Raoul. Perhaps you should take her offer up."

"Perhaps for an hour or two." Lilian quickly corrected Philippe. "I think it would be wise if your brother is allowed some time to do as he pleased, now that he's back in Paris."

Raoul suddenly felt an urge to leave the house.

* * *

"You seemed insistent on getting out of there." Auguste noted as he and Raoul walked through the streets of Paris.

Raoul grimaced. "I suspect that my brother was trying to force upon me a potential wife with Mademoiselle Blanchett. The hypocrite wants me to settle down, without considering that perhaps I need time."

"My father would do the same." Auguste confessed with a troubled frown as he glanced up at the sky. "His health is failing him, even as we speak. I know he still has time, but he was hoping to that he would have grandchildren within the next five years, if not a daughter-in-law."

"Well if you stopped acting like a grouchy old tiger and quit spending time offering your help at construction sites, maybe you would have found yourself a pretty girl by now." Raoul laughed as Auguste glared at him.

"Give me a woman who isn't obsessed with status, gossip and wealth, and _then_ I can consider you to be a matchmaker." He curtly told him.

Raoul finally calmed down and as the two made their way down the street, a young woman came out of a nearby shop. A young woman with familiar brown hair and an even more familiar face; she reminded Raoul of a special friend from many years back.

Raoul stopped in his tracks and kept watching the young woman. No... it _couldn't_ be... could it?

"Raoul?" Auguste asked, but the young man then bolted across the street without any warning and made his way to get closer to the girl and examine her carefully without her noticing him.

Memories came pouring back- memories of the sea, a red scarf, and a young girl and her father, the violinist.

As if sensing his presence, the girl (a _very_ beautiful girl) turned around in alarm and caught him gapping at her like an idiot. The young man cringed at how he must have looked to her, and yet it was too late to back out of this situation. "Monsieur?" She asked with a perfectly raised eyebrow, though it appeared that she was trying to recall who he was. "Who are you?"

With a sudden boldness, despite an equally sudden shyness, Raoul took her hand in both his own. "Mademoiselle," He began. "I am the little boy who went into the sea to fetch your scarf."

The young woman's eyes widened in pleasant shock. "Raoul?!"

Raoul let out a happy laugh. "Indeed!" He exclaimed. "I never imagined I would ever run into you, Christine!"

The girl beamed in delight and came in to embrace the young man. "This is a delight! I almost thought that you were gone for good!"

Seconds passed before the two old friends parted, while Auguste approached them and waited to the side. "My God, I never expected to run into you like this!" Raoul exclaimed.

"I see you've grown up." Christine smiled. "Have you gone into a naval career?"

"I just got back from a very long voyage." Raoul explained. "I'm glad to be back in Paris, but you would not believe all the things I saw when I was out."

As he spoke, he examined her- the young girl from so long ago had grown into a beautiful woman and it was hard not to notice how those changes effected her. Had she always looked that flawless? He tried not to think too much on this- if she noticed he was staring, she would probably get upset. Instead, he forced himself to ask another question. "How are you? How is your father?"

The sparkle in Christine's eyes dimmed. "Father... passed away almost three years ago." She reluctantly confessed. "He died of consumption."

This news was a blow to Raoul. He remembered Gustave Daae with great fondness, and he could easily feel Christine's sorrow over such a tremendous loss.

"I'm... I'm sorry to hear that." He had no idea what to say. He wanted to hug her again, but he had no idea if that was the right thing to do for her.

"It's fine." Christine let out a sigh and was able to smile. "I've been doing fine on my own. I work at the Opera-"

"You work at the Opera?!" Raoul beamed in joy. "You're a singer then! I always knew you would perform on stage one day! You must be a Prima Donna by now! Imagine singing almost every night with flowers thrown at your feet!" He was amused at the thought of such a thing. "You must have a lot of admirers by now!"

Christine hesitated before she let out a forced laugh. "I sing." She admitted. "But you are thinking too far ahead of yourself Raoul! The truth is-"

She suddenly went stark white in the face. "What time is it?" She asked.

"It's two thirty." Auguste finally spoke as he took his timepiece out to look at for her.

"I have to go!" Christine broke past Raoul and went into a run.

"Where?!" Raoul demanded. Why did they have to part as so abruptly as they met?

"I have been visited by the Angel of Music!" Christine meaningfully yelled out and let out a laugh as she ran down the street. "I shouldn't keep him waiting, or he'll be cross with me!"

A silence fell amongst the two men.

"The what again?" Auguste asked as he turned to face Raoul, who was puzzled by what she meant by those words.

"It's an old childhood story her father used to tell us." Raoul replied with reluctance over the fact that he couldn't chase after Christine. "A girl named Little Lotte would be visited by an Angel of Music and be gifted with the ability to bestow music unlike no other upon this earth."

"So your friend is seeing a tutor?"

"I suppose." Raoul shrugged. "After her father passed away, I would hope that Christine continued her singing. She always had such an enchanting voice- you felt as if you never heard such purity, or such beauty."

This earned a genuine smile from Auguste. "You were in love with her?"

"I was fourteen the last time we saw each other." Raoul smiled at the memories. "When we parted ways, I kissed her and swore that I would never forget her."

"Well by the way you speak of her, I'd think Philippe would be rest assured that you'll find yourself a nice girl."

Raoul's smile dropped. "That is, if he still approves of her. Perhaps I'll go to the Opera in a few days and try to arrange something. What are they playing now?"

"I believe it's _Hannibal_ , but they will produce it in two days time." Auguste answered with a grimace. "I for, one will not attend."

"Why?" Raoul laughed.

"Just... just listen carefully and tell me whether or not the world's taste in music is coming to an end."

* * *

"Oh girls!" Christine sang to the young ballerinas as she held a small paper bag out. "I brought what I promised!"

Several delighted squeals erupted from the young ballerinas, who broke away from Madame Giry and surrounded Christine, who gave out small sweets in wrappers for each of them. Christine gave Madame Giry a cheeky grin as the older woman frowned in disapproval, but even so, Christine walked over to the ballet mistress and took out a small box of english sweets for her.

"Is there any reason you are going to make my girls unable to stay still and act like fools in a moment's time?" The madame raised an eyebrow as she accepted the box.

"Oh, I just felt generous." Christine grinned. "I have a good feeling about today, that's all."

She turned to see Meg waiting by the door, and waved to her as she hurried to her friend's side.

Madame Antoinette Giry was puzzled by Christine's behavior as of lately. She seemed to be caught in some sort of dream world, which made it harder to focus on her dancing for _Hannibal_. On the other hand, she had heard Christine's voice not that long ago, when the girl was hanging out on the top of the Opera House with Meg, and it sounded... _otherworldly._ It was leaps and bounds above how she sang in the Opera and it was even above Carlotta and almost any other singer that Antoinette had heard of. It was in a professional, but very rare category of talent, and only one other person that Antoinette knew of possessed that same kind of musicianship.

Whatwas Christine up to in her free time, away from the rest of the world?

* * *

"You seem like you have something on your mind." Meg noticed.

"Oh, I just ran into an old friend from a long time ago." Christine told her with a grin. "It's funny how fate has played in my favor. Although..." She frowned "he thinks that I'm the leading Soprano. I wanted to correct him, but I lost my nerve and remembered that I needed to come back for a lesson."

It was a surprise to see Raoul again; he certainly grew into a handsome man- it was hard _not_ to notice that- and she was happy to know that he hadn't forgotten about her. What pained her was that he was under the belief that she had accomplished her old dreams by now, and she was reluctant to confess the truth. She was glad that she had an excuse to get out of that situation, but still... would he change his mind about her if he saw that she was amongst the chorus and not playing the part of Elissa?

"How much longer until _he_ thinks your ready?" Meg asked as they walked down the hallways. "No offense, but you should be more than done at this point. I heard you sing not that long ago." Meg felt a shiver at the memory of hearing Christine's voice from a few days ago. It was on stage at two in the morning, when everyone was too tired to go on stage: if you wanted the stage to yourself, there couldn't have been a better opportunity to use it for practice. "And I noticed that he's having you sing Elissa's songs- you have to be ready if he's having you do that."

"He said that I have one final test." Christine told Meg. "He didn't say what it was, but if it's something even more challenging than performing at the cafe almost once or twice a month, or performing all the songs from one opera in one day, or on stage in the dead of night then... well, I'm nervous about what it will be."

"And then you'll be free to make your other two wishes and he'll be gone from our lives." Meg pointed out, although she didn't sound too thrilled about such a notion. "I can't believe it- we managed more than two years of keeping that great of a secret from everyone. You'd think that we were living out some sort of fairy tale at this point."

To Christine's surprise, she herself felt saddened at such a thought. Granted, for all his faults, she had grown fond of Erik, and the time they spent with him made life feel normal again, if not a little more special.

What was 'normal' anyway?

"We had some fun these past few years, didn't we?" Christine smiled at Meg. "I felt like a child half the time, but I thought I wouldn't be able to hold my tongue for long."

"I suppose." Meg admitted. "Although we had a few close calls. I mean the notes are one thing, but... let's see... He thought it would be fun to teach us how to fence up on the roof, but he had the door locked up for a good hour and it was pouring rain like heaven broke loose."

* * *

 _Three figures were forced to go under the protection of the statue of Apollo as the rain continuously poured down on them. Not just little droplets of rain, but huge drops that could have easily been more like pebbles against their skulls and clothing._

" _If we catch a cold and die, I'm blaming you!" Meg glanced over Christine's left and hissed to the person on the far side._

" _Erik's contract does not guarantee the protection of catching a cold." Was the nonchalant reply._

" _I hate you."_

" _No you don't."_

* * *

"And then _I_ was able to have a wish granted."

"That was a lot of fun!" Christine grinned in delight at the memory- it was another secret they had to keep.

"Except he placed us right outside mama's office when it was time to go back!"

* * *

 _Meg let out a curse, but her anger turned to horror when she heard a noise behind the door to her mother's office._

" _Hurry, hurry, hurry!" Meg thrusted the bottle into Christine's ice cold hands. The girl was still shivering like mad, but she quickly put the finger that had the gold ring between her teeth, pulled it off the limb, and spat it in her hand before handing it to the slightly disgusted Christine, (who managed to hide the bottle in her dress) just as the door opened to reveal a_ very _angry Madame Giry._

" _WHERE HAVE YOU TWO BEEN?!" She roared at the two girls who seemed to be bundled up in layers of clothing and scarves, despite the fact that the weather wasn't cold enough for such garments. "YOU'VE BEEN GONE FOR ALMOST THE ENTIRE DAY!"_

* * *

"Come to think of it, he didn't offer any lies to give to mama." Meg bit her lip.

"I'm surprised she didn't lock us up in the dormitories after what happened." Christine shuddered. "She wouldn't have believed where we went. I suppose there is refuge in the impossible after all."

Meg began to think. "He's very strange. You know him better than I do, but neither of us found out why he wears that mask of his all the time. In fact, he's usually insistent that we never get to have a good glance of the right side of his face at all. His hair completely covers up his right ear, while the other is exposed... It's really strange, but oh well. Better a mask than..." She grimaced. "What was with that one outfit? The one with the odd hat?"

* * *

 _Both girls stared in dead silence at the jinn. Or more specifically, what he was wearing._

" _Uhm..." Christine tried to begin, but it was so hard to think. She could have sworn that the outfit was supposed to be from the oriental continents, but seeing Erik wearing it, along with the strange black hat..._

" _What_ is _this?" Meg pointed a finger at Erik and waved it. "Is that something you picked up, or are you just wearing it for fun?"_

" _What, this old thing?" Erik didn't even try to hide his grin. "This is Erik's outfit for when he is composing."_

 _Both girls have him the most incredibly awkward look imaginable, and he was unable to repress a chuckle._

" _Erik is joking. This is not what he wears when he composes: he just wanted to see how you two would react if he wore something unnatural."_

* * *

"It was... very weird." Meg finished as they approached the door to the dressing room. "I wanted to say that he looked ridiculous."

"I'd stop, before he hears." Christine grinned as she held the bottle up. "You never know if he's listening."

"Oh gods." Meg laughed. "Imagine if he had to hear the girls gossip in the dormitories. Or worse..." She gave Christine a wicked grin as she lowered her voice. "What if he's a pervert? There's quite a lot of us in one room each night."

"Except for the fact that I keep the bottle hidden, and thus I have saved our privacy."

The girls shared a laugh. Yes, the idea was uncomfortable, but it was too easy to find some humor out of it.

"In all seriousness, there's no proof, and I would have a word with him if I found out." Christine replied. "In any case, I should get to my lesson."

"Sure." Meg couldn't fight the smile off her face. "Well, best of wishes for whatever this 'final test' is." She waved and hurried off. Christine shook her head and entered the dressing room, and once the door was closed, she was able to summon out the jinn in the traditional manner that involved sparks and smoke. At this point, it no longer fazed her- she doubted anything would surprise her, after two or three years of the impossible.

"Hello again." He simply greeted her.

"Good afternoon." Christine replied. "So... today is the day?" She asked.

"As soon as you complete the exercises." Erik told her, though he titled his head in interest. "Although you seem noticeably happy today."

Was she really that easy to read? "I just had a laugh with Meg over something silly." Christine replied. "Also, I ran into an old friend from many years back. We didn't have enough time to catch up, but it was nice to see him again. Unfortunately he is under the impression that I am the current Prima Donna and I couldn't find it in myself to confess." She cringed. "I suppose he'll find out sooner than later."

She glanced back to Erik: he seemed rather tense and there was a cold look in those yellow eyes of his. In fact, it seemed that the atmosphere around them became uncomfortable.

Did she make a mistake? There were times where she could displease him, but this seemed to be one of those times. Was it because she was implying to him that she had to become the lead to impress someone- namely a man?

"I don't want to try to become the leading lady this soon if I'm not ready." She quickly tried to fix this. "He's the kind to jump to conclusions, and I didn't lie to him about my position."

Erik continued to hold that strange look, before he finally accepted her word with slight relief. "Yes, I suppose that was unfortunate." He somewhat agreed.

Christine came upon an odd thought. She wondered if Erik didn't like that she ran into an old childhood friend and believed that she was entertaining some romantic notion towards him, but then she thought that the idea was ridiculous. In all the time they knew each other, he never tried to woo her or anything of the sort, and their relationship had somehow been both simple and complex.

Besides, what on earth was so special about her that could make Erik jealous of another man? He didn't seem to harbor any strong feelings towards her- maybe he was affectionate to her, but not to the extent that most girls would desire. Plus he seemed more interested in her voice then in her. He could easily have someone more interesting or someone exactly like him.

Right?

Once the exercises were finished, Erik glanced up from the piano. "So... are you ready for my final request?"

Christine nodded.

"Then get your bag- we are leaving the Opera House."

"What?" Christine was puzzled. "But I just got back."

"Where we need to go will require both privacy, a certain instrument, and the proper acoustics." Erik explained. "Something that the Opera House will not grant us."

* * *

To Christine's surprise, Erik guided her to the La Madeleine in Paris.

As she admired the architecture of the mighty cathedral and how it appeared to stretch on forever and ever on the inside, Erik guided her to the upper levels until she found herself right before La Madeline's organ. It's form towered over her and reached to the barrel like ceiling; whoever played this organ would fill the entire building with music, and it would echo perfectly, if done correctly.

"Alright, I think I understand what you mean, but I'm still confused." Christine glanced down from the top of the organ as Erik approached the organ and examined the keys. His skeletal like fingers carefully brushed across the keys without emitting any notes and there was an obvious hunger in his yellow eyes- he wanted to play this organ, as if his life depended upon it.

"Set the bottle on the ground." He commanded. In turn, she obeyed and faced him.

Erik carefully sat down on the seat as Christine asked "But they will hear you, won't they? They'll try to find us, and I don't know if we should be here-"

Erik held a hand up, and she went silent.

"Your final test," He began with utmost seriousness "is to perfectly harmonize with this organ, and not let it overpower you. When I say the word, you will sing, starting with the starting high note from the fifteenth vocal exercise."

Christine felt her heart pound as she glanced out. So that was it? Harmonize with the organ? But could that even be possible?

She had to put her faith in Erik- she had come too far to give up now.

"I am ready when you are." She stood by his side and nodded as her heart began to race like it usually did before a performance.

Erik's hands hovered above the keys and she watched in anticipation. Whatever he played was like nothing on earth, and she felt a shiver: whatever he would play now would decide her future.

Finally the fingers fell onto the notes that they sought and what came out of the pipes of the organ was something she had never heard before. Something dark and alarming blared out- she felt as if there was something waiting in the depths, and yet the high notes also soared when they joined, as they rose up, before falling back down to rise up again, while the rest continued to let out the warning.

She could feel it all around her- this was music that was going beyond what was expected of it's capabilities. It contained something more unique and more connected to it's player- it connected beauty, might, and darkness into one song. She felt an anticipation building up around her, and something almost seductive slowly began to fall over her.

Her eyes feel upon the player- one hand was carefully dancing across the upper notes, while the other held steady on the lower notes. He appeared to be lost in the music and becoming one with it. The passion in his eyes was so intense; the love for music was no greater than when he was truly immersed in it.

The music rose up in key, and it became more powerful and more urgent. It was caressing her, and it was warning her, but as to what? What was there to be afraid of? She became so caught up in it that she almost didn't hear Erik speak out.

"Sing!" Erik suddenly demanded over the music.

As if it were natural, like breathing, Christine's body turned from the organ and moved in proper place and she took a deep breath and produced her first note, which soared up and down and along with the organ. It merged with it as if it was meant to be in perfect union- her voice, and his spirit were becoming combined as one.

She had no idea that he was regarding this union in an exact same way. For him, there was bliss in the merging of the precious instruments, but her voice was affecting him in a way that would come across as unintentional seducing. "Breathe!" his voice raised as if it were in time with the music.

She obeyed and her voice soared even higher.

He didn't want this to end and he wanted to be lost in the sound of her voice and the soul contained within it, but he was trying to be alert, for her sake, and he needed to make sure she would be able to fulfill his request. He had sculpted her voice into perfection until it could make the angels weep in jealousy. This union had to prove that she was ready to be allowed back to reality and tower above the others. She had to merge with this organ right to the very end and prove that her voice could be heard above the orchestra of an Opera House. This was a gift that nobody but her deserved, and if she was going to give it away- this creation that he worked to sculpt into beauty- then it had to be perfect.

"Higher!" He almost yelled and took a sharp breath.

Christine felt everything inside her change. She was soaring in a voice that couldn't possibly be hers, and yet it was. She was soaring ever higher than she ever had before and she couldn't tell if she was in perfect harmony with the organ, but she could feel that she was effortlessly raising up in ways she never could have imagined. She was feeling whole, and she was feeling as if her spirit was coming out of her.

"Sing!"

She still soared without wavering or losing energy. Once, she struggled with this part, but now it was effortless. The music was becoming more frantic-

"Sing!"

She was now lost in the music: this was bliss in it's truest form.

"Sing for me!" He hissed at her as if his life depended on it.

The final chord played, and her voice soared to it's highest peak and rang out. It surrounded her, it surrounded him, and it rang pure and true within La Madeleine as the organ's notes slowly faded out, while her voice overpowered it until it was the true music within the room. It didn't stop until Christine willed it and the highest note she ever sang gently died away from her mouth and left her in a stunned silence.

Christine paused as she felt reality come back. Was that her voice? Had she truly-? She touched her throat. Yes, that was her voice! She hardly knew herself anymore, and yet she felt... she felt like a _goddess_.

Moments passed, before she became aware of her surroundings and turned to see that Erik was standing up, but the look in his eyes was almost pure disbelief, as if he couldn't believe it himself, and yet he _knew_...

There was pride, followed by something else that reminded her of how he gazed at the organ before playing it. She wasn't sure what his eyes could tell her that his face couldn't entirely show, and most of her was still in a daze to read him correctly.

Slowly he walked from the seat and stood in front of her. Their eyes were locked together and she waited to see what he would do next.

Finally, he smiled. "You can now, Christine Daae, give to men, a little of the music of heaven."

She let out a gasp of air that must have been contained for what felt like an eternity.

"I... I hardly know myself when I sing anymore." She wasn't sure if she was scared or if she was in awe of herself.

"That is because you have transcended- y _ou_ are now the true Angel of Music."

'My _Angel of Music_ ,' he wanted to tell her, but he couldn't. He had to repress his desires, no matter how hard it was for him to do it. The last thing he wanted was to scare her away, right after he accomplished the 'journey' aspect of her wish.

Speaking of which, he could almost physically feel a connection to her come undone, like a part of a rope or a braid unraveling, until only two parts of it still remained. This unfortunately meant something important and he had to give her back something that she hadn't needed for quite sometime.

It was easy to forget that she was under contract with him and once again he had to be at her mercy until the remaining wishes were fulfilled. He didn't want that day to come when it came to this young woman, but even the good things could only last for so long.

"I have fulfilled your wish, but there of course is the matter of making it heard by all of Paris." Erik retrieved from one of his pockets the familiar gold ring. "In a few days time, it will be _you_ who will be performing the role of Elissa. And whether it takes one night or three nights, it will be enough to secure your future."

He handed the ring back to Christine.

How long had it been since she had to wear that thing? She never realized until now that it was the only defense she had against her own mind- one wrong word, and he would be gone in an instant. With slight reluctance, Christine put the ring back on her finger.

"And how will that be possible?" Christine asked. "If La Carlotta must play Elissa-"

"I have it all planned." Erik assured her with an unnatural certainty. "Everything has been falling into place: As long as you trust me and allow me to assist you, all of Paris will hear your true voice."

* * *

 **Auguste reminds me of I used to write Erik, when he was more moody. Maybe that's why he acts the way he does.**

 **...Ok, seriously, what's the deal with the oriental robes from the musical during "I remember/Stranger than you dreamt it"? I'm not a fan of them because they seem so out of place and...** _ **why?**_ **I suppose it's better than something even more weirder than that.**

 **Oh yeah, the La Madeline: apparently, in the novel, this was where Erik wanted to get married at, so I looked it up and inspiration struck. And yes, the song for Christine's final test was a mix of the legendary overture/title song of the musical: it seemed like a perfect idea to do so. (Ah, it sounds so good in organ form! Organs are awesome!)**


	7. Bright new star

**I recently re-watched the 2004 film with the family. Despite it's downsides, I still love it, though I kept my mouth shut to see if anyone figured out who the actors were, despite the film being over ten years old. I was happily rewarded when I was asked who was playing Erik before I answered for them.**

 **And so, we start getting a little more PotO thrown in. As per usual, Erik is up to his signature trickery, but it's easy to see why he likes it so much.**

 **Lucky number 7's title is from a certain song from the Disney version of Aladdin. Can you guess which one? (On a side note, it appears they recently released a Diamond edition of the movie.)**

 **Also: obviously recognizable lyrics belong to the ALW musical. There's also a certain exchange that also comes from the book, and you'll recognize it.**

* * *

 **Chapter 7 Bright new star**

Tomorrow night would be the opening of _Hannibal_ , but tonight was another rehearsal, and the timing couldn't have been more perfect. Erik watched it all from high up in the rafters over the heads of the cast as they sang their parts while he rolled a small vial in between his hands.

" _With feasting and dancing and song! Tonight in celebration!"_

Oh, tonight would be a celebration, if all went well.

He gave Carlotta a glare as the chorus performed their parts: he scared the woman throughout the past three or so years, but the stubborn woman still hadn't left. Worse yet, she still refused to listen to his 'advice' and sang like she did the first time he had the misfortune to hear her.

He then held the vial between a thumb and index finger and held it to his eye level. Inside the vial was a dark liquid with select oils from certain plants, and a simple charm placed upon it as a sort of precaution. He had to give Shakespeare and Alexander Dumas credit for part of the idea, but he wouldn't try to make Carlotta seem dead, like the idiotic Juliet or the loving Valentine. No, she would be dead asleep for a day or two, but she would wake up with a terrible illness that would leave her trapped in her own abode for a couple more days. That would be more than enough days to secure Christine's future.

Speaking of which...

He glanced down as the ballet performed their routine. Each girl was dressed in golds, reds, and greens, and their costumes only had long rope like appendages to cover their pale tights covered legs. One of said clothed girls was none other than Christine, who seemed distracted and wasn't putting in as much effort as her friend, who was practically gilding across the stage.

A part of him wished that the ballerinas didn't have to show off so much of their bodies to the audience and wanted he Christine to be able to keep her dignity... while the other half was rather interested in seeing how much of Christine's body was exposed without sleeves or skirts and liked what it saw.

Just because he was abnormal, it didn't mean that he could deny himself some gazing upon the form of a female. That was part of a man's nature after all and he would not be surprised if she herself had done some gazing upon the opposite sex of her own choosing. (even though he also hated the implications of that thought.)

This plan he was about to pull off was going to be ridiculously simple and it wouldn't be the first time he did this. He would have to do it at the very end, but it was going to be a long time until they finished act three... well, he could always make more notes and he would have to make some out to Carlotta to keep up the illusion. Christine would most likely be against his plan, but she could complain later when Carlotta could reclaim her role.

Eventually _Hannibal_ came to the end of its rehearsals and Erik was in complete agreement with those who were exhausted. Of course, this was when he had to act, and he quickly put a charm over himself to look like one of the many stage hands- the robe was exchanged for slightly dirtied work clothes and a white apron- though he put on one of the many masks that were backstage. It was some gaudy blue and gold feathered thing for act three and he swore to himself to never to wear it again.

The biggest drawback to having magic was that if he tried to be anyone else that was a human being, his face would still have the exact same features, no matter how much he tried to cover it up. That was the only giveaway to his true identity and the one thing that kept him from completely merging with everyone else.

It would have been nice to be able to fix the asymmetrical horror for even thirty seconds, but fate was a harsh mistress to play around with. Still, he had found ways around the issue, and as he came to the backstage and poured the vial's contents into a cup of soothing tea, the disguise was proving highly effective. No one paid him any mind if they did cross his path, though he still didn't like the feeling of being exposed out in the open.

"You!"

He quickly made the vial vanish and came out of hiding from within the curtains to see that the Spanish cow was braying at Christine.

"You bumped into me during my solo in act two!" Carlotta sneered. "Watch where you're going next time, or I'll be the one how will stomp on you, like a toad!"

"I promise I won't do it again." Christine stiffly promised the woman with a blank face as she crossed her arms, before she walked off to join the others.

Perhaps Christine was working on her acting for the real world or she was finally using the confidence she gained after her performances in the cafe. If that was the case, then maybe there was no longer any need to be concerned about her losing her courage to someone as inferior as Carlotta. Though the idea of a toad was giving him some thought to think on for a later scheme, should the need ever arise.

With a scowl and a curse, Carlotta stormed off towards the disguised Erik, who then made his entrance and put on a figurative mask over the real one.

"E-excuse me Madame Carlotta?" He timidly asked her.

"Yes, what is it?!" Carlotta snapped as he pretended to make his arms shake as he handed her the tray of tea.

"J-just something from the back." He stammered as he tried to force himself to think like the character he was trying to be and not laugh at what he was doing. "To ease your voice? It's an old superstition, but I heard that this blend is good for the nerves."

"Superstition, bah!" Carlotta scowled as she snatched the tea cup from the tray. "I don't need to contribute superstition to my luck, as rotten as it is. It's a miracle I haven't been crushed to death or found a rat in my dressing room again."

 _Don't laugh, don't laugh._ He tried to chant to himself as the woman drowned all the continents of the cup in three gulps before setting the tea on the tray. His hands were still shaking, but it was for a different reason this time as he fought to contain himself.

She licked her lips and continued on her way, but then she glanced to him again. "Why on earth are you wearing a mask?"

"The others dared me to do it for the whole night for ten francs." He forced himself to let out an awkward and embarrassed laugh. "Do I look like I could be in the opera?"

Carlotta let out- no, she _brayed_ out a laugh. "You look absolutely ridiculous!" She told him. "I wouldn't be caught wearing that off the stage!" She then walked over to probably give someone more trouble, but Erik quietly slipped away from the backstage and watched to make sure no one was looking, before he returned himself back to the bottle through a hand gesture as if conducting Hannibal like Reyer did. He felt the smoke engulf him and it clouded his vision for a few seconds, before he found himself back in very familiar chambers where all his instruments were gathered and where hundreds of sheet music were scattered here and there and where the candelabras and blue stained glass windows rose high above it all to provide much needed light.

The stage mask was already tossed aside and he quickly put his half mask back on, though he still wore the stage hand clothes. He gave his organ a glance- the one with the wheel at the back that tended to turn and the pump that moved like an accordion when he played upon it- and then he walked towards a large rectangular cloth that was about his size and pulled it away to reveal a hidden mirror.

He stared back at his reflection: if it wasn't for the mask he had to wear backstage, he could have easily passed for a stage hand. He almost looked... _average_.

His mouth slowly upturned into a smile, before he finally allowed himself into a crazed laughing fit and collapsed to his knees. Finally, he could unleash what he kept inside him during the exchange with the fiendish woman, and he was unable to stop as his laughing echoed throughout the chambers in perfect fortissimo.

"You stupid woman!" He chortled as he clutched his stomach and tried to breath- gods it hurt to laugh, but it was worth it! He played his part so well, that she didn't even suspect a thing! What an idiot! "Oh gods- I-" he wheezed. "-your going to kill me!" He laughed even harder and almost fell to the floor, had he not place his hand on the ground in time. "I'm going to be killed by that infernal woman!" He laughed in disbelief!

"In the end- I- I-" He took a deep gasp as he looked up at his reflection. His head was bent low in such a way that he almost looked like a villain out of a story as his yellow eyes peered out from under his brow and the masked side of his face. He gave his reflection a twisted grin, which completed the image of a dastardly schemer. "- _Erik_ had the last laugh!"

* * *

Remy wasn't sure if he enjoyed working for two managers instead of one- it pretty much meant a double of everything these days, and he genuinely missed his old boss.

The red haired secretary glanced up from his desk to see a very distraught woman come in, and quickly identified her as Carlotta's maid and messenger. "What is it this time?" He fought the urge to sigh and annoyance. "Does she not want to show up unless we fire a chorus girl?"

"Oh, it's horrible!" The woman moaned and wrung her hands. "My lady won't wake up! She's deathly pale and feels cold- I don't think she will be able to perform tonight!"

"And I assume that she's dancing in her room and drinking chocolate as if nothing is happening tonight, even as we speak?"

"No Monsieur Remy! She complained of stomach pains and her throat and chest tightening up before she collapsed on the floor of her parlor. We called in a doctor and everything, but she won't wake up!"

Remy was silent for a moment, before he mentally let out a terrific curse and bolted from his desk to knock on the door of Firmin and Andre.

"Yes, yes, what is it?!" Firmin demanded. Remy took this as his cue to open the door and glanced at both men with a cautious eye. Both men seemed to be way in over their heads with being the new managers, and this was going to be a real challenge for them.

"...It appears that we are down one leading lady for tonight's production." Remy spoke. "La Carlotta is too ill to perform."

And although Remy was concerned for the Opera, he stood back and watched as the managers began to panic. It was a 'been-there-done-that' moment for him, after dealing with the Prima-Donna so many times before.

"Our first Opera and she's fallen ill?!" Andre sputtered, while Firmin became hopeful and pleaded. "But her understudy! Surely there must be an understudy."

"I'd advise that you bring in Gabriel, Reyer, and Mercier." Remy suggested. When the managers gave him a blank look he explained (with his annoyance well hidden.)

"Your chorus master, your conductor, and your acting manager." Good lord, how long have these two been here?

"Oh, of course!" Andre almost gasped in relief. "Someone get those three immediately!"

* * *

"There is no understudy!" Reyer answered with great frustration.

"No understudy?!" Firmin looked as if he went into debt as he saw the full house be completely refunded before his eyes. "But why?!"

"No offense, but La Carlotta is a very prideful woman." Mercier scowled. "Anyone who tries to be her understudy barely lasts for long, because the woman does not believe that she needs an understudy."

"The production is also new." Reyer ran a shaking hand through his hair.

"We can't count how many girls backed out from having a chance to replace Carlotta." Gabriel didn't even try to recollect the numerous girls in question. "Honestly, I wish I knew why her contract was renewed twice to begin with."

"B-b-but there has to be someone!" Andre protested. "Anyone?!"

Remy just shook his head as he tried to fight the oncoming headache while the others were complaining and entering what was to be an inevitable shouting match. He already knew this day wasn't going to end well, until he noticed a familiar yellow envelope on his desk and snatched it up.

He had been getting these letters for almost three years- from the 'Ghost Critic' as he called the sender- and while they were usually words of advice or suggestions, they also were demands for twenty thousand francs a month, so they were bound to cause trouble. Already the two managers weren't taking this critic seriously and even less so when they were told that he never had shown his face in public.

Remy opened the letter up, expecting a demand for a salary, but instead it was something that completely caught him off guard.

"Monsieur Andre! Monsiuer Firmin!" He yelled out as re ran back into the managers office. "I have a letter that might save us all!"

Immediately all the squabbling ceased as all eyes turned to the letter.

"Well don't just stand there man, read it to us!" Andre prodded with a frantic wave of the hand.

Remy held the letter out and read what was written in childish red lettering to the rest of them. _"To the managers of the Opera House and Monsieur Reyer, Mercier, and Gabriel. I have caught word that your star has fallen ill, and that there is no understudy to take over the part of Elissa, thus leaving you in a tight situation._

 _Of course, you should take this as a sign. La Carlotta is not fit for the theater if she can't learn to share her roles, though that is beside the point. In all my time here, I have found that one of your chorus girls has been taking voice lessons from an unknown teacher and has been learning Elissa's parts during that time in her studies. I have found her voice to be heavenly, from out of all the voices I have heard, and this, combined with her acting abilities should make her a convincing Elissa._

 _I'd strongly advise that you bring her in and audition for you. She will probably not expect this so suddenly, but let her sing 'Think of Me' and you will see that she will save you all from embarrassment and ruin. The name of this young woman, who you must immediately seek, is Mademoiselle Christine Daae, whom I'm sure some of you very well know to be dedicated to her performance in your operas._ _I remain, gentlemen, your obedient servant."_

" _P.S. In the event you do chose Mlle. Daae, I shall purchase Box Five for the evening performance, since I would like to have a good seat in the theater. I would hope that you haven't sold it yet."_ Remy concluded as he lowered the letter.

* * *

"What is going on?" Christine asked as Madame Giry lead her to the office, with Mercier quickly whispering something to the woman. Unfortunately, she did not get her answer, and she found herself standing amongst her higher ups in the managers office.

"Ah, Christine!" Gabriel sighed as the managers gave her a strange, calculating look. "You have no idea what we've gone through this morning, but first things first: is it true that you have been receiving voice lessons and have been learning Elissa's part behind our backs?"

Christine flinched in shock. Who exposed her and Erik?! "H-how did you-"

"Just yes or no, my dear!" Firmin wrung his hands.

"W-well yes." Christine began. "But how did-"

"We need you to sing Elissa's aria for us." Reyer jumped in before the situation could get out of hand. "Carlotta has fallen ill, and we were told that you might be able to take over for her."

"And we do believe that you could be ready in time for tonight, as you are very patient and can adapt to directions." Mercier jumped in.

"Of course, there is only one way to prove that." Reyer concluded. "Could you sing 'Think of Me' from act three?"

Christine immediately felt overwhelmed by this sudden news. Carlotta was- and they wanted her to- but how exactly-

They _wanted_ her to sing for them!

She nervously glanced to Madame Giry. "This is sudden!" She had no time to prepare for this! She expected that she would be able to perform in a role in the next opera, but this was like being thrown into the den of wolves! Again!

"Just prove to them what you are capable of." Madame Giry kindly spoke to her as she griped the top of her cane. "Just sing as you normally would, as if we are your audience."

Christine took a deep breath as her heart began to pound. She didn't know why this was happening so fast- could Erik have had a hand in this? He could have at least warned her, if that was the case! She hadn't even warmed up yet!

She glanced around the office and at the faces who either seemed doubtful, or were looking at her as if she were their possible savior.

She took another deep breath and closed her eyes as she tried to recount everything she was taught, but only one thing came into mind: _just let go._

In her mind, the piano was playing, and she could feel the mask of Elissa fall upon her face. She opened her eyes and let herself get lost in the music of the song.

" _Think of me... think of me fondly when we've said good-bye."_

* * *

That day was the day that all of the Opera House discovered to their shock that a rare jewel was hidden amongst them, in the form of a young soprano.

While Christine charmed the managers and Remy, the others were stunned. Until now, Christine has a somewhat pleasant voice, but it was as if they had heard someone entirely different when she sang! Where did such beauty- such perfection come from?! How and why had she hidden it away from them?!

Still, it was decided, to Christine's great surprise, that she was to take over for Carlotta and play Elissa for _Hannibal_. The girl felt the word spin when she heard the words and almost would have collapsed, had they not taken her off to get her ready before night could fall upon them.

Everyone was somewhat terrified when they heard what happened to the diva, but she became a bitter memory when they found out who was replacing her and heard Christine's true voice for the first time. Christine could not get over how many shocked faces she had seen amongst her co-performers, and some were even dropping their jaws at her. She could not believe it herself- her dream was finally coming true, and yet she wasn't prepared for it.

But then she allowed herself to get lost in the role of Elissa and found that she could barely hold in the rush of thrill as she sang out and her voice carried throughout the entire house as it merged in harmony with the orchestra.

Christine was very quickly favored by Mercier, Remy, and Gabriel, who had their own troubles dealing with Carlotta, and yet here was someone who was not only willing to listen to them, but she had put more thought into her role than Carlotta ever had, from the way she expressed her emotion, to the way she allowed her notes to gently carry out.

The ballet had mixed reactions, since they knew Christine the longest. Some were in awe, while others shot her nasty glares for her sudden success and felt a twinge of jealousy. Meg, however, was more than delighted and was eager to congratulate Christine on finally achieving something that was thought impossible to her, and for her success at her wish for coming to fruition. Even the normally stoic Madame Giry couldn't repress her pride to the girl who was practically like a daughter to her.

Everything seemed to take forever, and yet it also went by all too fast. Christine was barely given any free time during the quick preparations, save for an important vocal warm up she did in the chapel before the rehearsals began, and a break to eat and rest her voice.

To her surprise, she was granted the very dressing room where she had been practicing with Erik in as her own. It was very odd to be granted her own maid and hairdresser for the night, and to have the whole room be filled with other necessities, when the room was normally occupied with a piano and a masked jinn.

Christine did have enough time to do one important thing and carefully transferred the jinn's bottle in a box and put it in the dressing room. She wrote a warning on the box for everyone else to see: "DO NOT TOUCH." And just to make sure to show how important that box was, she carefully put her locket inside it.

"I'm going to have a word with you later about today." Christine scolded the bottle before she pushed the box under the vanity, before covering up the top with a grey shawl.

Almost two hours later, the house was finally packed, and the performance began.

Christine was now dressed in Elissa's costume- a crown was placed on her head, a scarf was now wrapped around her arms, and a huge billowing skirt was around her waist, instead of the many ropes of the slave girl costume. To others, she looked like a splendid queen, but the image was ruined when she was handed the 'gift' of a (fake) still bleeding severed head in a sack as one of her props. Even she couldn't hide her grimace over it.

"Christine?" She turned to see Meg in her costume. The girl looked as if she was unsure about something, before finally smiling and tightly squeezed the brown haired girls' arm.

"I guess _he's_ not so bad after all." She confessed. "Look where you are now."

"It's not over until tonight." Christine felt the old feeling of her heart beating and her hands shaking. "What if I mess up? What if I lose my nerve?"

"Remember what I said." A reassuring voice spoke in her ear. "It is better to keep your dignity and continue, than to falter and stop."

Christine turned her head for the source of the voice. "Erik?" She whispered.

"Erik is here?" Meg raised an eyebrow before she tried to glance around to find him.

"...I thought I heard him just now." Christine felt as if some of her nerves were calmed down, just by the sound of his voice.

"Places!" Peter hissed to Meg, who nodded and quickly waved to Christine as the stage began to darken, while the overture changed tune and came to a slow tempo.

It was time.

Christine walked out to her spot. This was it- this was the moment she worked so hard for. This was her dream coming true.

The overture was almost over.

This was not going to be like when she performed in the cafe, or when she was performing with others. This was going to be the most important moment of her life and she was still nervous.

She closed her eyes and thought of Erik- the one who brought her to this point. Tonight, she would be singing for him; this performance would be in his honor, for all he had done for her.

The overture concluded it's last note and she allowed her voice to carry her into the part of Elissa, before the rest could follow suit. There was no turning back once she sang her first note.

" _This trophy from our saviors. From our saviors. From the enslaving force of Rome!"_ In that moment of silence, all could see and hear only Christine. Her voice was clear, her words were audible, and it was nothing like they had ever heard before.

Indeed, though the performance was wonderful, with some slight mishaps on the corps de ballet's behalf, the true focus of the evening was on Christine Daae. The audience was given a more than pleasant surprise with her talent and her voice, which charmed them all. Until then, they never heard of the name of 'Christine Daae' and they would wonder just where on earth she had come from. Even those backstage were enjoying their own encore in hearing Christine sang, and yet they still wondered where that angelic voice of hers had come from.

However, two viewers were especially interested in Christine. The first was the Vicomte de Chagny, who watched the performance with his brother in their own box. He was practically leaning out of his seat as he tried to get a better view of his old childhood friend.

"My God." He whispered. "Her voice-"

"Raoul!" Philippe's hiss was more like a laugh as he tried to pull his brother back into his seat. "You'll see her later, outside her dressing room!"

It was all in vain- Raoul could not tear himself away from the singer as she enchanted him with her spell of a voice. This was the girl he grew up with and yet this was someone else entirely different.

"She sings like an angel." Raoul murmured. He firmly believed in what she could do with that voice, and it still came across as a shock to hear how much it had changed since then. He knew then, without a doubt, that he had to see her once again.

Then there was the second viewer, who was hidden in the shadows of box five. He had changed from his usual robe to a more formal evening attire, which only heightened his appeal, though no one would ever see him. Unlike the others, he already knew Christine's voice enough for there to be no shock value to her performance. Instead, he allowed her voice to overwhelm his senses.

He was no longer seeing his project or his Mistress on that stage, nor did he see Elissa. Instead, he only saw Christine, who was singing with all her spirit as the opera neared it's end and came to Elissa's aria. He could feel her soul in her music, and he could almost literally feel it inside his being.

She was so close, and yet she looked so far away.

Erik could not fight his feelings for Christine when she sang. Even her own voice was not enough for him- he needed her in a way that scared him.

He was almost entirely convinced that he was infatuated with her... no... this was something much more wonderful, but also even worse. He could not dare to admit it; instead, he chose to enjoy her sing, while he could, before the moment ended all too soon, like the life of a mayfly.

Finally, Christine concluded the aria with a beautiful cadenza and finished with a bell like high note as she tossed her scarf high into the air in triumph, before concluding with an almost triumphant _'me!"_ which carried out into the theater until it ended in time with the orchestra.

She hesitated when she stopped in time with the orchestra. Until then, she was caught up in the passion of the song, and reality was coming back to her, since her personal audiences had been small, in comparison to what seemed to be a quarter of all of Paris in this Opera House. She waited to see how she would be received, as she had no idea how she did, beyond what her peers said earlier today.

Everyone in the audience as far as she could see practically stood up on their feet at the exact same time and let out thunderous applauses and cheering.

She let out a gasp in disbelief and felt like she was going to collapse to the floor, and yet she stayed strong and beamed with an ecstatic smile as the applauses for her and her alone lasted for what felt like an eternity. It was as prophesied: she had astonished all of Paris.

When she bowed and crossed her arms together, she thought that she wouldn't be able to stand back up, but she was able to, and she was even able to smile at Reyer, who seemed quite pleased with her performance, before she glanced back to her audience, and waited for them to cease, before her cast could join her in Hannibal's conclusion.

* * *

It seemed that, with her new role, came new hassles and having to be flooded with many people was one of them.

Christine genuinely appreciated the congratulations offered to her by her co performers and various members of the Opera, but she felt as if she were in a daze and could barely acknowledge all of them. She couldn't even find Meg, who should have been the first to greet her, as her ears rang with praises for her success.

"You were stupendous!"

"Incredible!"

"Where have you been hiding all this time, Mademoiselle Daae?!"

"I hope Carlotta is ill for the rest of the season and that you replace her!"

"Magnifico!"

Christine was almost gliding through the backstage of the Opera and though it's hallways and corridors as many people rushed to greet her, and was almost overwhelmed by the fact that many of the patrons wanted to greet her in her dressing room.

"Christine!"

Finally! There was Meg! The girl grabbed Christine by the wrist and pulled her to the dressing room and they didn't stop until they got to the door, which was already surrounded by many people who were eager to see the new star.

"Please... I need a moment." Christine pleaded to Meg.

"Shoo! Shoo!" Meg waved away as many people as she could, and didn't stop until they were safely in the dressing room, where Christine finally collapsed in her plush seat by the vanity. She threw her head back and struggled to breath for air as her blonde friend joined her.

"You did it!" Meg squealed in joy and knelt at her friend's side. Christine took deep breaths to steady herself and glanced at Meg. The poor singer was shaking, as if she were in a fright over her success, and yet she was able to smile at her friend, who clasped her hand.

"You proved Sorelli wrong." Meg spoke. "You aren't a common street rat- you worked hard to get this moment, even if Carlotta had fallen ill." She chuckled. "It's just a matter of time until I can become a Prima Ballerina, and then we'll _both_ have Paris to ourselves, if not the world."

"Perhaps it will be sooner than you think." Christine managed to speak. "Were you not Sorelli's understudy for the role of Swanhilde for _Coppelia_?"

"Perhaps the day will come when mama stops criticizing me and casts me in a lead role for my talent and not because I'm her daughter. But never mind that!" Meg changed the subject. "What was it like?!"

"Honestly?" Christine asked as her hand touched her chest. "I... I feel like my soul has left my body. I felt like I was in a dream and I didn't want to wake up, but now it's all over." She closed her eyes.

"Oh Christine." Meg drew her friend in a warm embrace. "It looked like it was a splendid dream."

Meanwhile, Raoul was hurrying to get to Christine's dressing room, with a single red rose in hand, while he left his brother in the dust.

"Slow down!" Philippe laughed. "She probably has a storm of suitors outside her door!" Just wait for a while, and she'll be ready to speak with you."

Raoul came to a stop and with a scowl, he turned to Philippe. "I suppose you're right." He reluctantly admitted.

"Come on." Philippe grabbed his brother's shoulder. "Let's go find Sorelli."

* * *

Unfortunately for Christine, Meg had to leave to continue late night rehearsals at her mother's insistences and she had to deal with many more visitors, new admirers, and well wishers, including the managers, who considered her to be their shining savior by this point.

"We hope that you continue in Carlotta's place if she is still ill!" Firmin begged.

"Lord knows what could have happened, had someone not spoken on your behalf!" Andre agreed.

"Oh you two." Firmin's wife had joined the two and shook her head. "Still getting adjusted to your new positions. I hope this will serve as a lesson to the both of you. And as for you, my dear," she smiled to Christine. "I do hope they will consider your performance tonight for the next opera. It would be a sin if we cannot see how far that talent goes."

"I appreciate your support, Madame Firmin." Christine gave the woman a thankful nod.

"Well," Madame Firmin grabbed the managers by their arms. "We can't keep this poor girl for long. She must want to change into something more comfortable than that lovely costume of hers."

"Oh, of course!" Andre agreed as they all left the room. Once they were gone, Christine made to lock the door, as she was too overwhelmed by her admirers for one night. Everything happened all too suddenly and this included the otherwise welcomed praises.

Good lord, she hoped that she wouldn't turn into Carlotta if she thought like that!

Christine set the key down on the vanity and walked towards the full length mirror to examine herself, despite that her feet felt sore and she was ready to collapse back into the chair. She was still dressed in Elissa's costume and crown and she did want to change out of it, but she wanted a moment to take in the change in her fortune for just a moment longer.

She didn't look like Christine: she looked like someone who was entirely different, even if they bore her face, but her eyes looked as if they too had changed, and held her entire journey within them. Gone was the sad chorus girl who still mourned her father and didn't try to shine. Instead, there was a young woman who was able to find the determination to make her dream into a reality and honor her father's memory at last.

She turned her back to the mirror and collapsed against it. It's cool surface was a welcome against her back as she closed her eyes and took in the relief of finally having peace all to herself. Of course that only lasted for a minute before she heard a pleased voice in her ear.

"And so, for this night, you had captured the minds and hearts of all of Paris."

Christine smiled in pleasure as she confessed. "I almost thought I would lose my nerve, until I let myself get lost into the role."

Without warning, she felt a pair of hands on her shoulders, and she glanced down to see that a pale and almost skeletal like hand with a ring on the small finger was sticking out of the mirror and was touching her left shoulder. She then remembered who was with her, and relaxed as she walked away from the mirror and felt the presence behind her grow until she could sense someone of flesh and blood walking right behind her as she went to the middle of the room.

"And now it is up to chance to see if Madame Firmin's wishes come true." Erik spoke as Christine turned to face him. "For now the truth is out, and soon, everyone and everything will bow down to you."

She noticed that he was dressed as if he was one of the patrons in evening wear and she felt a blush rise to her face. She never dared let him know it, but Erik could be handsome, in a mysterious and alluring way, and the evening wear seemed to complete him, as if it were _meant_ to be. "You... your clothes-"

"Did you expect me to be hiding in the wings, my dear?" He gave her an amused smirk. "I went all out for your debut tonight- your _true_ debut."

Christine felt the blush deepen and lowered her head. Was she seriously turning into a common school girl around Erik after all the time they had known each other?

It was around this time that Raoul was finally free of the many obstacles of well wishers and made his way to the dressing room of his old childhood friend, where no one else was present. He mustered up what courage he could and was about to knock on the door, when he heard that there was someone in the room with Christine.

"You look stunning; perhaps I should have made you into a princess or a queen." A very male voice spoke out in amusement.

"And then they will be singing to make way for Princess Christine." The voice of Raoul's childhood friend laughed in merriment.

"You would make a charming ruler." The voice of the other sounded as if he were in a dream, and yet was seriously considering the notion.

Raoul froze to his spot as he realized for the first time that perhaps Christine already had a suitor or even a husband!

A sickening dread filled his heart as he stayed rooted to the spot to determine what Christine's relationship was with this man, whose voice sounded so masterful and so compelling that surely he was the answer to her own super human voice.

"I couldn't help but overhear what your friend had to say to you." The voice continued. "The dream will _not_ end Christine. As long as I am with you- as long as you are still bound to me- I can allow it to continue."

Bound to her?! What was he talking about? Raoul felt his heart pound as he waited to hear any other clues to the relationship.

Inside, Christine almost shyly glanced up to meet Erik's golden eyes. "What else could I ask of you?" She began. "You have given me hope, and you gave to me what my father wanted me to do- what I wanted to do. I can't even begin to think of how I could ever repay you for all you've done for me."

Erik had no idea how to respond to that. In little moments like these, Christine was unknowingly offering the world to him, and he could think of a way for her to repay him, if her offer to provide him with one of her wishes still stood, but no was not the time to speak about it. He wanted to focus on her and her alone, in this moment- and she seemed rather pale as if she were about to collapse.

"You seem tired." Erik concernedly spoke out as his hand automatically went to her right shoulder. "Are you feeling alright?"

Christine let out a sigh and grabbed the hand that covered her shoulder. The touch of his cool flesh would have felt odd to her, but it was more comfortable than she realized. "Tonight I gave you my soul and I am dead." She confessed as she closed her eyes. "I sang in your honor for this night, in thanks for all you have done for me."

Outside her door, Raoul held his breath as he leaned closer to the door. Was Christine truly taken by this other man, who he suddenly felt a stab of jealousy towards?

Inside, Christine opened her eyes to glance at Erik, who seemed at a loss for words.

Finally, he managed to give her a warm smile filled with such adoration that it struck her to her heart. That was not the smile of a servant or a teacher- that was the smile of someone who seemed to regard her as if she were life itself.

"Your soul is a beautiful thing, child." Erik placed his other hand on her left arm. "And I thank you. No emperor received so fair a gift." The hand touching her shoulder was now under her chin and gently drew it up.

For Christine, it was much like when he last made that similar contact when they first began her lessons, except it felt much more pleasant than before, and she became very aware that they were close to each other, to the point that all that she could see was his face (or what she could see that wasn't hidden away from her). She made no effort to draw away from him as he made a gentle declaration to her.

"The angels wept tonight."

Both of them were in complete silence. They were unaware of the listener behind the door.

Curiosity made Christine glance at Erik's mouth as she suddenly had a strange desire in her mind that surprised her, and yet she wanted to act upon it. Without any warning, she carefully touched Erik's arms and drew close to him, as he realized to his greater shock what she was about to do.

Something that he never had. Something that had been denied to him since birth.

He made no move against this- if this was to be her choice, he would let her, even if it left him in a mix of disbelief and an overwhelming desire for it. Even if she was not aware of the truth of the face of the person she was moving ever so closer to.

He felt breathless and his heart was frantically pounding, as if it were someone playing at it like one of his instruments.

Slowly, Christine rose up on her toes in near perfect en pointe with all the grace of a ballerina to reach to his level and moved closer towards him. Her face was now just inches from his own, and she was about to move in closer towards it.

The world came to a stop.

Then there was a loud knock at the door, followed by a surprised yelp from outside, and the moment was shattered.

Christine was startled out of her mind and nervously glanced to the door as Erik slipped away from her grasp and cursed whoever _dared_ interrupted the moment that he desperately wanted to happen.

"Really Raoul." Philippe drew his hand back from the door as his brother looked as if he saw the devil and was clutching his chest. "Don't skulk in front of her door if you want to see her." He chided.

"Raoul?" Christine heard the voices outside and turned to Erik in alarm, but he had already vanished and was nowhere to be seen.

Disappointed by the turn of events, but also willing to see her old friend, Christine went to open the door and permit the Comte and Vicomte into her room and sat down at her vanity.

"Mademoiselle." Philippe smiled and tipped his hat to the singer as his brother glanced around the room. "I would extend my congratulations to you, but I believe my brother would want to outdo me first." He grabbed the man's arm and pulled him aside.

"Hello," She nodded with a happy smile.

Raoul forced himself to hide his confusion with a smile and went to her side. "You were magnificent." He spoke as he felt his courage come back and was able to finally had Christine the rose. "No words could give you justice, Lotte. Your father would have been pleased. Whoever this angel of yours is must also be proud of you."

"He is." Christine smiled as she recalled what almost happened a few moments ago and gently caressed the petals of the rose.

"Ah, you remember my brother, correct?" Raoul turned to Philippe. "I don't know if you two had a chance to meet before."

"We... might have met once." Christine recalled that day when he was with Sorelli.

"Raoul has spoken rather fondly of you." Philippe didn't seem to know what she was talking about, much to her slight discomfort. "Seeing as you two used to be childhood friends, why not join us tonight for a late night dinner? It would give you time to relax, and catch up with each other."

"Unless you have a suitor or husband who would like to see you first." Raoul suddenly blurted out.

Christine gave him a confused look as he cringed at his error. "I am not married, nor am I seeing anyone at the moment." She stated.

"...Oh." Raoul smiled in relief, though he looked a little tense. "Then you will join us? I would love to speak with you again- you practically ran out on me the day before."

"I-" Christine stopped herself as she felt a strange cold draft in the room. Something inside her very core told her that this was a bad idea, but she couldn't think of why, other than that she felt rather tired

"I'm afraid I must decline." She apologized. "I am tired, and if Carlotta is still ill tomorrow, then I must have all my energy to last for a second night."

Raoul was clearly disappointed, but he reluctantly nodded. "Of course- I understand. But perhaps another day, when you are free?"

"I'll see if it's possible." Christine tried to compromise.

In that moment, Raoul took a notebook out of his pocket and wrote something down for her, before tearing out and putting it on the vanity. "Just before I forget." He told her. "Until next time, Little Lotte- good night."

"Good night." Christine waved as both men left her dressing room.

"They're gone." She spoke out loud as soon as she was sure enough time passed. "You can come out now."

Nothing happened.

"Erik?"

Still nothing.

"Oh well." Christine got up and moved behind a screen to change out of her costume. "I guess you were spooked by the sudden intrusion like I was."

* * *

"Raoul, you should work on your tact." Philippe pressed as the brothers left the halls. "You almost came off as too forward."

Raoul was not listening to Philippe. Instead, he was wondering who the voice was in the dressing room with Christine and how he only saw her inside it. Was he going mad or was it something else? He was positive that he didn't dream it up! And if Christine claimed that she was unattached to anyone then why did she speak so lovingly to the voice? It didn't erase his feelings of jealousy towards whoever the owner of the voice was.

But the voice seemed to regard her as a child. Didn't he refer to her as one? On one hand, he came across as a lover, but on the other he seemed to be like a surrogate father. It was hard to put a finger on the age of the owner and make a decision on this.

Little did Raoul know that he and his brother passed by the owner of said voice, who was invisible to all and had reverted back to his traditional attire, but he was giving the young aristocrat a very cold, hardened look from within the shadows. His yellow eyes were able to glow, like a cat's, and had Raoul seen them hiding in the dark, he would have assumed that he was looking into the eyes of the devil.

Erik was very aware of the name of de Chagny and the man who owned the title. His abilities granted him the ability to observe the patrons that came and went at the Opera, whether it be in the day time, at night, in the theater, or in the foyer. He wanted to know exactly which patrons could support Christine in her career, and he knew exactly when the journalist for the newspaper would come and write a review for the opera. In his desire to be able to control matters into his own hands, he had to carefully time everything for Christine, so she could get as much exposure as possible, and tonight everything fell perfectly into place.

He kept an eye on things this morning and made sure that the secretary got his letter right when it seemed appropriate, and he even remained hidden from Christine as she auditioned for the troublesome managers of the Opera. From then on, all seemed to go well, until just mere minutes ago.

Comte Philippe de Chagny was not in Erik's favor. Erik did not approve of the man's womanizing ways, and while the sudden patronage was a blessing for the Opera, it was bound to invite trouble. It was a miracle that the man never laid eyes on Christine and Erik made sure that it remained so, for her sake. In fact, Philippe was not the first man Erik had to watch out for, considering how many stage hands liked to chase after the female members of the Opera, and there had been one close call with a stable hand who did seem to genuinely like Christine, until she had become too wrapped up in life at the Opera and her lessons and curfews to pursue a true relationship with him.

And now, just to complicate matters, the Comte's brother was the childhood friend that Christine was fond of.

Oh yes, he heard of that part of her childhood and a part of him immediately despised the boy out of jealousy when she spoke of him with such fondness. He suspected that the person Christine told him about before their last lesson was the same person, and Erik felt a sight dread that there was a chance that he was going to lose her to some rich brat who couldn't appreciate her, but who knew her longer than he did and possibly had more to offer for her life.

He stayed hidden in the mirror when the brothers visited Christine, and he already saw that her future was in danger. Christine didn't have too many days until Carlotta would return, and she needed all her energy to last through them- how could they not see that, when he was able to? The idea that she would get involved with the family was bad enough, but what was worse was the burst of rage that was boiling inside him when he saw how the boy looked at Christine and when she smiled at him.

Christine was truly remarkable, but it had been almost too easy to forget that she could easily charm men into liking or becoming smitten with her, without her meaning to. Especially himself.

He could not let Christine be with this brat. Her career had just taken wing, and if this boy interfered, or threatened to go as far as to clip her wings with the promise of courtship and wanted to disgrace her or even marry her before she became far enough-

Erik's fingernails were drawn so tightly into his palms in the fists that he made, that they were cutting into his skin.

He was jealous of the boy- he was free, he had advantages that his brother was squandering away, he could walk amongst his fellow men without having to worry about being regarded in suspicion or fear, and he didn't bare the curse that Erik had managed to hide away from the only people he had directly interacted with for the last three or so years.

No, he tried to tell himself. He could not afford to act on jealousy now- it would not do for Christine, who would get suspicious if he became too involved with her personal life.

But she could not afford to squander away her gifts this early in her life.

Christine could not get drawn by the allures of the upper class. She could not end up as vain and as foolish as Carlotta did. She could not bind herself to another this soon, and especially if that person could easily take away her career before it began.

And he would damn well make sure of that.

* * *

 **And so, the struggle for Christine's future/Erik's jealous tendencies begins...**

 **The stage hand outfit is a nod to the tour production. I'm not going to spoil where Erik wears the stage hand disguise, in case you want to find out, but... he looked** _ **really**_ **good in it. *insert typical silly fan girl grin***

 **Fun fact: originally, Erik was going to be** _ **shirtless**_ **under the black robes (noticeably when I was picturing the 2004 cast for the concept), until I realized he would not let that happen if it were up to him. I don't know which version/actor you are picturing right now but... uh... sorry/ you're welcome?**

 **I'm still debating whether or not to include a magic carpet in this fic: it almost feels like it would be stretching it too far, but I will only do it if you want a magic carpet in this story.**


	8. Confrontation

**Guest: Oh, you will get your wish granted alright. Though I won't say when.**

 **L van Am: Actually it was Philippe who killed the moment- Raoul was only eavesdropping. I don't know how much of the novel will be incorporated into this story, but it's involvement will play a major part later on.**

 **I look back to how I am writing Erik and I am thinking 'huh, he's a little too over the top over a few things'... until I realized who I was writing and just went with it.**

 **Today's special: Humor! Drama!**

* * *

 **Chapter 8: Confrontation**

Christine gave the paper that Raoul wrote down on quick glance: it provided the address to the de Chagny estate, along with a date and time that fell on the following weekend. Christine was familiar with the area where the de Chagny family lived, having passed it by a few times with Meg and a few other girls who marveled at the chateaus as they envisioned the day that they could live in such splendor.

Christine gave the paper an appreciative smile before tearing the number of the house, date and time off the paper and put the rest in a pitcher of water. The last thing she wanted was for someone to find the invitation and jump to conclusions, which was especially in the case of her fellow performers and her attendants, who enjoyed a good gossip as they did their work.

After Christine made her way through the halls and entered the dormitories, she was greeted by a round of unexpected cheering that almost scared her to death and found herself pulled into the room filled with ballerinas and chorus girls.

"Our star!" Lucille loudly boasted as she paraded Christine into the center of the room, while everyone else cheered and gave their applause to the singer. Lucille took Christine's hand and lifted it high up into the air as she proclaimed: "Tonight, one of us rose from the ranks of the ensemble and the corps to stand above everyone else! Through Carlotta's god-send of an illness, our sister was able to bring everyone out of their seats and make them all weep in relief! An angel came to deliver them from the voice of a beast!"

"Yeah, we had enough of Carlotta's ego!" Suzanne cheered as she hopped up and down the bed.

"Hear, hear!" Violette bounced up and down on her bed.

"And now to celebrate!" Lucille let go of Christine's hand and wrapped an arm around her shoulders, while her free hand pointed to another girl. "Angelique! Bring out the wine!"

Almost all the older girls squealed in delight as the alto in question took out a bottle of wine from under her bed and triumphantly lifted it up as if she were a revolutionary holding up the flag, causing a thunderous applause from the others.

"Oh, Lucille I can't!" Christine gave the ballerina an apologetic smile. "I might still be needed tomorrow, and the last thing I want is a headache in the morn-!"

"Oh come on, sweetie!" Jammes playfully teased. "You more than earned a glass!"

"Plus, Madame Giry is ignorant of my sweet beauty." Angelique waved the bottle in the air as the girls began to group around her with cups in their hands. She then broke into a drinking song from a past production and the other girls joined in as each one was granted a proper amount of the sweet nectar of Dionysus and walked away, though she refused to satisfy the younger girls desires for the wine. In the end, a cup was forced into Christine's hand and she was given more wine then most of the other girls before she was sent to the center again.

"There's so much you need to tell us!" Suzanne spoke up. "How did you get the part so fast?!"

"More importantly, where have you been hiding that voice of yours?!" Helene demanded. "Who is your teacher?!"

"If she didn't tell us during these past few years, then there might have been a good reason for it." Most of their eyes turned to Rosina, who finally spoke out after lowering her copy of Les Miserables down to gaze at Christine. She gave them all a meaningful look, and though it was a rarity to hear her speak, she was quickly ignored.

"Can they teach us how to sing like you do?" Rebecca- a young mezzo- asked with hopeful eyes. "Surely they must be quite an excellent teacher if they taught you so well!"

Christine's eyes drifted to Meg, who was sitting on her bed and bitting her lip as she waited to hear what kind of lie she would have to say.

"I'm afraid he is a very selective man, Rebecca." Christine confessed. "He is a wonderful teacher, though he can have quite a temper. However he made me swear to never to give out where we take our lessons or say his name or he would quit teaching me."

A handful of girls let out groans of discouragement.

"A toast!" Lucille raised her cup into the air. "To our sister and new star Christine Daae!"

"To Christine!" The girls cheered as they raised their cups into the air, before drinking them up.

Christine let out an embarrassed laugh as she raised the cup to her lips and took only a small sip.

* * *

The next day was dedicated solely to rehearsals. There was no telling when Carlotta would recover, so while Christine worked with Mercier on her acting, she was also made to dance with her fellow ballerinas with Madame Giry, who was displeased by their performance.

"You especially." The madame sternly glanced to Christine. "You danced as if there wasn't a care in the world the day before yesterday and your movements were better suited for a newly born calf, rather than a lithe slave girl."

A few girls who were envious of Christine's sudden success snickered to themselves. They were immediately silenced by a loud thud of Madame Giry's cane. "Get up." Madame demanded to the girls. "And begin. We have much work to do before tonight."

Another night fell upon the Opera House, and Carlotta still wasn't showing up. It was unlike the diva to let herself become this ill, and Christine wondered yet again if Erik had something to do with this. It would easily be within his power to cause the drastic change.

She shuddered at the thought.

Oddly enough, the only sign of him for that entire day was the usual set of critiques that were passed out. Those who were long used to this routine found it rather peculiar that Christine was not granted one of her own, which lead to rumors behind her back. Perhaps this unusual enigma was just as enchanted by Christine as the audience was? Those in charge of the opera and had seen the letter that promoted Christine entertained similar notions, but they were too focused on perfection to be concerned about the oddity.

Carlotta didn't show up and Christine performed as Elissa again. She was far more comfortable with being in front of everyone in the audience as a lead this time, and while her nerves still shook inside her, she had an easier time at conquering them. This time around, her performance would be in honor of her father.

What on earth would her father have said if he knew the circumstances that lead to this moment? He was a practical man who liked to entertain the idea of the fantastic for his daughter, but the numerous coincidences and change in view of the supernatural would probably drive him to needing a day or two of contemplation.

This time around, Christine tried to work on making her Elissa more patriotic and more dark: her voice could win over her audience, but Elissa was dedicated to her country and husband, and she had a dark delight in the macabre (if the severed head and the fact that she willingly kissed it was any indication.) Once more, Christine was met with great applause, and while a part of her greatly enjoyed it, she reminded herself that Carlotta would eventually come back, and that it would be all too easy to get drunk off the attention she was getting.

* * *

There was still no word from Carlotta the next afternoon and Christine was getting worried for the diva's health, for once in her life.

"CHRISTINE!"

Christine glanced up to see Meg running towards her with a newspaper held in her hand. "You have to see this!" She panted. "It's the review for _Hannibal_ I found on your bed!" She grabbed Christine's arm and led her to her dressing room.

"Look!" Meg opened up the papers as Christine sat down at her vanity and handed the papers to her with a grin. "Look, look, look!"

Christine read aloud the review, as written by the critic. _"The Paris Opera's recent production of_ Hannibal _has been found to be both a wonderful spectacle, full of great surprise."_ She began. _"The tale of a king who struggles between the patriotism for his country, desire for the glory of war, and the love to his family can keep one on the edge of their seat. The production is eye pleasing, with lots of color in the sets, and the act one's great elephant is a much talked about crowd favorite-"_

"Skip ahead two paragraphs."

Christine obeyed.

" _Ubaldo Piangi's boisterous nature as Hannibal-"_

"Skip a paragraph."

Christine let out an amused sigh and glanced down, but her heart almost stopped when she saw her name.

" _The greatest surprise of the evening is the debut of Christine Daae as Elissa. An unexpected understudy to La Carlotta, Daae captivated audiences with a sweet charm and eagerness in her Elissa that was well received, when others would make Elissa much too over the top and almost unbelievable._

 _However, the true glory to Mademoiselle Daae shines through her voice. Her seraphic tones, purity in pitch and an almost super human ease in her voice as it raised to high tones caught us all off guard: from her glorious intro, to her thunderous and charismatic rallies for Hannibal's support, to a devilish delight in the darker sides of the war that almost came across as a shock, Daae's greatest breath taking triumph was Elissa's aria 'Think of Me' in which almost all the Opera House stood up in applause after an angelic cadenza."_

The rest of the article talked about the production, but Christine didn't continue on. Christine lowered the papers to the vanity as she felt her heart pound inside her and tried to comprehend what she just read.

"See?!" Meg excitedly grabbed Christine's shoulder. "You're already the talk of Paris!"

"But I'm still an understudy and a chorus girl." Christine was almost in a daze. "Carlotta will come back soon and-"

"That's not what everyone thinks."

Meg let out a surprised squeak as both girls glanced behind their shoulders to see the one responsible for Christine's triumph in the center of the room, with an envelope in hand.

"Quit doing that!" Meg gasped. "I thought I'd have a heart attack!"

Erik merely handed the envelope to Christine. "I found this on the secretary's desk before he did, and I think they might be of interest to you." He informed her.

Christine opened the letter as Meg glanced over her shoulder. "...It's an invitation to perform at Lady DuBois chateau in two weeks from now." Christine's eyes widened in surprise. "She's one of the patrons of the opera!"

"That... _that_ was fast." Meg was stunned. "But Lady DuBois isn't one to please that easily! She's known to be very particular in her tastes!"

"And it appears that she was threatening to remove said patronage because of La Carlotta." Erik informed them. "However, I have seen her and I do know that she has seen you perform before your debut. Considering her reputation and taste in music and company, you should take advantage of this, for the sake of your future."

"I thought you hated the idea of Christine performing for a private audience." Meg raised an eyebrow at this. "Especially if they don't care about listening to it."

"Not according to the song requests." Christine was surprised at which songs were included in the invitation- some of those songs were known to be a challenge to sopranos, and they were not as well known as the others.

To her great embarrassment, she remembered something that would prove to be an obstacle to her success. "I... I don't have an evening dress." She stammered. "I'll be too busy with rehearsing to pick one out and what I have isn't appropriate!" Why would something like shopping for a dress end up becoming a requirement for her?

"See?" Meg pressed. "That's why I always tell you to splurge on a dress! You never know what will come up!"

"B-but I would need _two_ dresses!" Christine gulped as she remembered something else. "There's also the charity function that they want us to perform for, and they're probably going to want me to sing for them!" She moaned. "Why did this all have to be so sudden?!"

There was a light coughing and the girls remembered that there was a man in the room with them who probably cared less about fashion than they did.

Meg let out an awkward laugh. "Well, I guess we'll try to go look for something tomorrow. It's not the end of the world just yet."

Christine turned in her chair to face Erik. "This is all happening too fast." She was almost in a daze. "All that time spent on my voice, and then I get flooded with invitations and needing a new dress or two for what we've worked towards. I could easily wish for them, but that would be such a waste." She reclined into her chair.

"You have quite a reaction to your success." Erik replied with fascination. "You seem to be overwhelmed by the attention, instead of basking in it like a certain soprano of this Opera House."

"Do you honestly think I'll end up like Carlotta?" Christine let out a laugh.

Suddenly she remembered what was bothering her for some time.

"Erik," She slowly began as she looked him in the eyes "Carlotta's sudden illness at the premiere of Hannibal seems too coincidental for me. Did you have something to do with that?"

The atmosphere changed in the room as all humor vanished and the tension changed and expanded. A quiet silence lingered as Christine waited for the response.

He gave her a rather cold glance. "And suppose I did? What would you do?"

"You _did_ do something to her!" Christine felt a pang in her chest. "You made her ill! They said she was unable to wake up! What kind of illness makes one unable to wake up for a whole day?!"

"If you must know, then yes, I did give Carlotta a special drink that only put her in a deep sleep, but will also make her voice be too dry to use, much less sing for another day or two. Is that what you wanted to hear?"

"I didn't ask for that!" Christine jolted out of her seat and almost knocked her chair back. "I thought that I would be getting a lead part the proper way, without any favoritism!"

"Ah yes, the politics of the theater: where you're either related to someone important, or you're their only option left. How well has that gone for anyone in this theater? And yet I'm sure you must have figured out that it was me who recommended you to your superiors that morning." Erik cooly spoke as his arms crossed together over his chest. "Forgive me for saying this, but you don't always seem to catch on to certain things."

"So you just used my ignorance to your advantage?! I had a feeling you were involved that morning, but I chose not to act on them for exactly this reason!" Christine snapped. "I have more than appreciated all that you have done for me, but an all out attack on Carlotta?!" She then paled. "All those incidents that happened to her. All those props that fell, and all those pranks that were played on her- those were all your doing too, weren't they?"

"I didn't kill her." Was the nonchalant reply. "I was only trying to discourage her from coming back here ever again."

"But you would have liked it, wouldn't you?! She's a horrible woman, but she doesn't deserve-"

"When you made your wish, you did not request that I stay out of the politics of the Opera House." Erik pointed out with annoyance. "What I can't figure out is why you are on the side of that beast of a woman, who barely anyone in this place tolerates, inside or outside!"

"I'm not choosing sides!" Christine yelled. "I don't want anyone to get hurt because of me!"

"Um..." Meg timidly raised her hand. "I'm still here. Should I lea-"

"Well unfortunately for you, now comes the part where you have to figure out who will be your allies and who will stunt your growth as a performer." Erik almost growled at Christine as the ballerina was ignored. "You seem to be comfortable with the de Chagny brothers, despite the older brother's questionable reputation."

"What does this have to do with Philippe and Raoul?!" Christine asked. "Raoul is a childhood friend, and Philippe is his brother! You can't blame me for wanting to see them again!"

"If you value your career, you will stay away from them." Erik's voice dropped into a low warning. "I mean it: stay _away_."

"You can't tell me to avoid them!" Christine was even more frustrated at this point. "Raoul want's to visit me, and I want to visit him again, after all these years! You can't blame me for wanting somethi-"

" _I warn you to stay away, or else I will have to take matters into my own hands_!" Erik's voice thundered out.

"YOU CAN'T CONTROL MY ENTIRE LIFE!" Christine snapped as everything inside her broke loose. "And in case you forgot, I still have two wishes left, so I can easily fix it so that you won't do anything else that will benefit me or you at everyone else's expense! Maybe I'll make it so that you won't ever see me again!"

Christine felt ill and a headache was coming upon her after that badly needed outburst, so she quickly made to leave the room, followed quickly by Meg, who felt uncomfortable and very awkward at what she got herself stuck in.

"GET BACK HERE YOU UNGRATEFUL CREATURE!" Erik snarled at her. "I'M NOT FINISHED WITH-"

Christine slammed the door and ran as fast as she could into a place where there was a lot of people who could consider her to be a lunatic if Erik decided to appear before her and continue the shouting match. Meg, on the other hand, made it a point to stay as far away from her friend as she could and felt a surprising desire to go and rehearse.

* * *

The following night was another success, though it required all of Christine's acting abilities to disguise her lingering anger. It made acting out certain scenes a lot easier and no one would be the wiser for it.

But all good things had to come to an end, and as if the argument caused the change, Carlotta returned to the Opera House in full health and with as much energy as before.

"You have no idea how much worry you caused us!" Firmin told the diva as he and Andre followed her towards the stage, where everyone else was about to rehearse again, while. "We almost had to refund the whole house!"

"But we managed in the end, and we whole heartedly welcome you back to your stage!" Andre groveled.

Carlotta gave them a sickeningly sweet smile. "But of course. A mere illness can't keep me from doing my job. I was rather distraught when I heard the news about what happened in my absence." She then noticed Christine and gave her an unsettling grin. "Especially when I couldn't bear to think of how much I would be missed, when you had someone less experienced to take over for me."

Everyone inside the theater waited for something to happen between the diva and her understudy.

Christine felt her hands form into fists. How dare that woman insult her! She didn't care about the Opera! She cared more about the attention she received as a star! In some way, it made Christine even more determined to not end up like the woman.

"Great, now we'll probably waste time as she get's into her costume!" Aaron (a baritone) grumbled. "She already came in half an hour into rehearsals!"

Cocteau- a baritone-bass- turned to Christine. "If it's any consolation, my dear, there is still the next production to audition for. The world won't end just because you had only one moment in your life to shine."

Christine gave Cocteau a smile as Carlotta walked off to get into costume. "Thank you."

* * *

After an unbearable rehearsal that lasted longer than it should have, Christine and Meg were free to attempt to find the former a new dress or two for the upcoming events.

However, it was easier said than done. Most of the clothing stores were spaced out, or were too far from the Opera House, which made the search time consuming. There was also the fact that not only was it hard to find a dress that was well within Christine's budget, but there was also the fact that most of them were designed in such a way that they would not give Christine enough air to breathe in for singing, and whatever fit within her needs did not suit her tastes.

It took almost two hours, but with Meg's help, Christine finally found a dress for the charity event (and hopefully for the visit to the de Chagny's home.): it was a lovely peach rose color, with slightly puffed out sleeves that went to the elbow and had a single bow and ruffles sewed on, while the bottom of the dress had some body to it, in addition to looking as if it were made of multiple layers of fabric.

"Oh how pretty!" Meg cooed as she fingered the fabric. "Next time you should help me find a dress!"

"I will, in exchange for your help." Christine smiled back, before glancing at the tag and took in a sharp breath of air. "This will take almost all of my money!" She glanced back to Meg. "I'm not going to be able to find a nice evening dress at this rate, and knowing how much those can cost, I'll have to-!"

"Then why not ask your fiancé for a few more francs?"

Christine and Meg noticed the sudden presence of a woman in white with dark hair and a black chocker with a red stone attached to it. "Seeing as you are engaged to be married, of course." She indicated the gold band that was still on Christine's ring finger.

"Oh no!" Christine quickly protested. "That's just a present from a friend!" In truth, she wore it because she was well aware that Erik had a habit of somehow appearing when she least expected it, and she didn't want to take any risks if she accidentally made a wish.

"Pity." The woman murmured. "Perhaps you should wear it on another finger. It would give people ideas... unless it's one of those chastity rings?" She seemed annoyed at the idea of it.

"...Of a sort." Christine admitted.

The woman gave Christine an interested look. "Hmm... well, my dear, as much as I would like to be of assistance, I'm afraid that my maid is getting tired of our outing. She hate's shopping for clothes." She added, before walking away.

Both girls stayed silent, until after the dress was purchased and in a parcel, and they were free to walk out in the sun, amongst the other parisians.

Meg let out a sudden giggle.

"What?" Christine asked.

"You should tell _him_ what happened with that lady!" Meg gave Christine a mischievous smile. "She thought you were his fiancé!"

"Except he would probably enjoy that." Christine scoffed before she rearranged herself in a masculine position and spoke in a perfect imitation of Erik's tenor voice "' _Well in a way, your contract is an engagement, and Erik has been engaged to you for almost three years. Not counting the time Erik took you and Meg to Russia when your friend was Erik's Mistress for a day, of course_."

"Oh God!" Meg burst out laughing. "I never saw it that way!"

Christine chuckled. "I bet he's had a lot of _those_ engagements."

"But in all honesty, do you think Erik is actually jealous of the fact that your old friend is in your life again? I know I shouldn't talk about it, but I've seen similar dramas for far too many times in the Opera House while I was growing up."

"I considered it." Christine confessed. "But I don't want to believe it because we are far too different for our relationship to extend towards romance. Yes, it sounds like a charming fairytale, but the man can be so... _aggravating_!" She huffed in anger. "You heard what he did to Carlotta! Plus I doubt a relationship between a human and a jinn could ever amount to anything that wouldn't be out of a tragedy!"

"I suppose I see your point." Meg admitted. "But on the other hand, you both have similar interests, he is far more intelligent than most men I've known, he's gone out of his way for you... also-" Meg raised a suggestive eyebrow at Christine. "-I don't know if you've got to see his whole face yet, but he's not too bad on the eyes. I wouldn't have minded shouting at _him_ in an argument."

"Will you stop it Meg!" Christine hissed. "I barely know Erik as a person and I only know a little of his personal life! For all I know, he's well over a thousand years old or he's secretly Loki in disguise!"

"Who?"

"A trickster god from Norse Mythol- I'm done talking about this!" Christine huffed as she tried to focus on other things.

 _But you wanted to try to kiss him that night._ A not so innocent voice chuckled in her head. _Deep down, a part of you is curious._

Christine shook her head and made herself walk even faster to the opera house.

* * *

"It looks like someone did you a favor." Meg suddenly spoke out as the girls entered the dormitories.

As soon as Christine made her way to her bed, she noticed something that was out of place: there were a large parcel upon the bed. There was a letter with familiar handwriting tapped onto the lid, which she chose to ignore but she set her own parcel down to open the other parcel and pulled out a dress.

"Holy-" Meg was stunned and gave Christine an envious look. Curious as to why Meg reacted like that, Christine flipped the dress around by the short and slightly puffed out white sleeves and held it out.

The dress was an ivory white, that seemed to be composed of two layers of skirts trimmed with dark purple (almost black) lace ruffles while the bodice not only had an upper layer of skirts sewn onto it, but it bore a similar dark purple center that had white jasmine flowers and emerald green sleeves embroidered onto it.

Not only did the dress seem to be her size, but it looked like it was designed for her need to breathe for singing.

"That looks like it's fit for a princess!" Meg was in awe.

Christine noticed the letter on the box and reached down to take it and give it a read.

 _I am not expecting anything in return for this, or for your forgiveness. However, I am aware that time is growing short, and that you are in desperate need of something suitable for your future._

 _And before you ask, yes: I did pay for the materials for the dress._

Christine lowered the letter and hesitated.

Then she went to the box by her bed and took the bottle out. She undid the stopper and held the bottle close to her mouth.

* * *

The stained glass produced something akin to natural sunlight and it filled the music room with it, while giving the musician's pale skin and his mask and almost unnatural glow.

Erik glanced at the sheet music at his organ and thought over the compositions. He could hear something in his head that should play after this section, but it wasn't coming out just right, and he scowled at the dissonance in his head.

" _I'm not forgiving you for your behavior, or for all the unnecessary actions you took, but I will thank you for the gown."_ A voice of an angel suddenly echoed throughout the chambers and silenced the music in his head.

Erik glanced up to the source of the voice, whose presence seem to linger as if the owner was still with him.

He smiled and glanced back to the sheet music. The music in his head returned, but this time it was much more clear to him, and he let it take him away, before he quickly wrote it down.

" _Also..."_ The voice hesitantly added, as if in thought. _"I still wish to hear what it is that you want most in the world. If you are ready to tell me, I'm ready to listen... because despite your methods, I'm still grateful for what you've done for me, and I want to repay you somehow, if it's possible."_

The music in his head went silent.

And for the first time in what felt like a long time, Erik felt a twinge of panic.

The moment that he was dreading was finally coming, and even after all this time, even if she was comfortable with him, he still didn't feel prepared to show her the truth.

* * *

 **Of course, just because things seem ok now, it doesn't mean that they can't get a lot worse later on. Only time will tell what else will happen in the future.**

 **A Christine who won't put up with Erik's behavior is win in my book. I'm glad she had a spine in the novel and in the old cartoon- where the heck was it in the musical? Yeah, she started getting p. during the final lair in the tour production to the point of tearing up Erik's sheet music, but I think she should have every right to get mad at him. In a way, her declaration that she isn't his to control felt very satisfying.**

 **It's easier to say that the rose peach dress takes nods to the original silent film Phantom of the Opera dress that Mary Philbin wears in the unmasking scene, while the evening dress is not only based off a dress that I saw many years ago, but takes a direct/obvious nod to Disney's Aladdin.**


	9. In the palace

**Big shout out to L van Am for being my beta reader for this chapter. Thanks for putting up with the things that I failed to catch, and I hope I can learn from your corrections, so that the next chapter won't have as many! I hope you were able to enjoy the chapter while you went through it. :)**

 **EDIT: I made an incredibly stupid mistake and took something for granted. I found a book on Phantom of the Opera from the 80's and it said that the chandelier is raised into a room above the theater when they cleaned and inspected it, and not lowered to the ground like I assumed. Naturally, I had to fix this because otherwise it makes Christine seem like an idiot to anyone who knows otherwise.**

* * *

Chapter 9: In the palace

The day when Christine was to visit Raoul came, and she made quick work to prepare for it. She snuck off to her old dressing room and hurriedly put on the rose peach dress, pinned her hair up like most of the female audience members of the opera did, and put on some light makeup on, before putting the locket on around her neck. Finally, she threw a blue cloak over herself and hid the dress under it: she didn't want anyone to suspect what she was doing, and the fewer people who knew, the better.

Christine also noticed the gold ring on her finger and quickly put gloves on, as she didn't want a repeat of what happened in the store. There was no telling if Erik would follow her, but she didn't want to take the risk, in the event that he noticed she was missing.

Christine hurried down the halls, past the workers of the opera, held the cloak tightly to herself (the colder days were still a ways away, so it was already an inconvenience.), rummaged though her bag (because she didn't want to find a certain bottle hiding in there yet again.) She would have continued on, had a familiar melody not stopped her in her tracks.

It was coming from Madame Giry's studio.

Christine walked over to the door and cautiously peered inside to see the Madame listening to an enigmatic music box with the monkey in Persian robes that she had seen a few times, ever since she came to to the Opera House. The ballet instructor looked lost in thought as she gazed upon it's splendor, but Christine's attention was on the music.

It sounded like the song that was played for the annual masquerade that was held at the Opera House. She liked how jovial it sounded, and how the song made you feel as if it was your very own dance partner and swung you around, but this version- the one from the music box- had a sense of childlike wonder and innocence.

Christine thought back to the previous Masquerade ball. Ironically, that was the only time Erik ever appeared in public alongside her and Meg without any sort of enchantment, and that was one of the first of many times that she had truly began to feel happy and enjoy life once again, after the death of her father.

Coincidentally, the masquerade was coming up very soon...

Christine snapped out of her thoughts before she could dwell on that one evening and hurried away: she didn't want to confess to her foster mother where she was going, without a chaperone or a friend, if she was caught by her.

Luckily, Christine was able to secure a carriage and found herself being driven to the neighborhood of the well privileged citizens of Paris. She glanced back at the Opera House and let out a childish giggle as she realized that she was deliberately pulling the wool over the eyes of many people who were inside the building. Was it a bad thing to do? Yes. Was she being foolish by not telling anyone where she was going? Definitely, but she would enjoy her time for now and worry about it later.

* * *

Christine almost felt her heart stop when she saw the chateau that belonged to the de Chagny family. It was very lovely and the architecture was very modest, in comparison to most other chateaus nearby) or the opulence of the Paris Opera House), and the lawns, the flowered plants, and the bushes looked well cared for.

Christine thanked the driver and approached the house with butterflies in her stomach as she wondered what would happen on this visit. She already felt out of place and almost considered turning back, but just as she took her cloak off, Raoul came through the front door and greeted her with a smile.

"Little Lotte!" He beamed as he called out to her and waved. "You finally came!"

Christine smiled. "I'm sorry I had to make you wait," She apologized "but I'm glad I finally had a moment to visit you."

"I hope you don't mind, but there are a few others that decided to visit." Raoul opened the door for Christine. "May I?" He held his hands out for her belongings.

"Oh, thanks!" Christine gave her cloak and bag to Raoul, who led her into the sitting room, where Auguste and Lillian were already waiting.

"I believe you already met Auguste." Raoul introduced Christine to the man, who gave her a small smile and a nod from where he sat. "I've told him a lot about you."

"It's a pleasure to meet you officially." Auguste said. "I heard about your success in the Opera this week. I wish I had a chance to hear you sing, after all the praises that Raoul gave you."

"Really?" Christine blushed.

"Perhaps you could provide us with an encore at some point today?" Raoul asked as he set Christine's belongings away. "I mean, I understand if you don't want to, but you do have a wonderful voice."

"Maybe I will." Christine was almost considering this. A private performance wouldn't be so bad, would it?

"And this," Raoul walked over to Lilian. "Is Lilian Bl-"

"We've met before." The woman interrupted. To Christine's surprise, it was the woman from the dress store who noticed her ring, and she gave the girl a knowing smile. "And I see that she's wearing the dress she bought at that time."

"We... we have met." Christine confessed while she was amazed at the sheer coincidence of the meeting.

"And wearing gloves indoors?" She added knowingly when she saw Christine's hands.

"I've had bad circulation in my hands lately." Christine lied.

"So _you_ are the talk of all of Paris." Lilian smiled as she traced the chocker that she wore around her neck with her fingers. "The mysterious rising star of the Opera. It must have taken a miracle for you to have replaced the leading lady at just the right moment."

Christine nervously clenched her hands together. "It was... peculiar." She agreed.

"I suppose this 'Angel of Music' of yours Raoul mentioned must be happy about your performance." Auguste said.

"What?" Christine turned in surprise. "He told you about-"

"I told him about the stories when we grew up together." Raoul confessed.

"Angel of Music?" Lilian asked as her maid came walking out with a tray of food.

"I..it's just a story." Christine wanted to avoid the subject, even if the denial was depressing to speak out. "My father promised me that he would send an Angel to me when he died. I did find a tutor, but it's not like he was an actual angel." Christine laughed nervously. "But yes, he was very pleased with me."

The maid let out a snort at this.

"Fantine!" Lilian scowled as she reprimanded the maid, who glared at her through her eyeglasses. "Say that you're sorry!"

"Sorry." Fantine hissed without looking at Christine. Instead, she was glaring at Lilian, who sighed.

"You need to be on your best behavior today. Do you understand?"

"Understand." the muscles in Fantine's face tightened as she gave Lilian a sharp look.

"Wait, your name is Fantine?" Christine asked. "As in the character from Victor Hugo's _Les Miserables_?"

The maid's anger suddenly vanished, and as she turned to Christine, her eyes sparkled in a curious triumph and she happily nodded.

"Fantine is one of my favorite characters in the book, along with Jean Valjean." Christine confessed. "Do you like the book too?"

Fantine waved her hand in a 'so-so' gesture.

"It's a pretty lengthy novel, and there are some parts that I wish that Hugo didn't include, but otherwise, it's quite engaging and hard to put down." Christine beamed. Finally there was someone in this company besides Raoul whom she could feel comfortable around. "What do you like about-"

"Fantine, I'm afraid that you need to go and check on the tea." Lilian all too cheerily spoke out. "Perhaps you can save that discussion for another time."

Fantine's happiness died and she put on a very angry frown, but she forced herself to turn away and leave the room. Christine was now curious about Fantine, and why she seemed to hate Lilian so much, but the later didn't give her time to think.

"Now then." Lilian turned to Christine. "I would very much love to hear you sing, Mademoiselle Daae. Perhaps the journalist failed to give you proper justice."

"Is that alright with you, Christine?" Raoul asked.

Before Christine could say a word, they heard the front door open and closed and they turned to see Philippe standing at the opening of the room.

"Mademoiselle Daae." Philippe seemed surprised to see the singer. "How... unexpected."

"I had invited her, remember?" Raoul told Philippe as he sat down on the sofa.

"I see that you did." Philippe's tone made it hard to pin point whether or not he was happy to see Christine.

"I can sing." Christine quickly moved to a corner of the room where they could all see her. She could sense that something was off, and she wanted to ease the tension. She prepared herself to perform a somewhat softer rendition of 'Think of Me.'

It wasn't her best, but she could hear the music inside her head as she sang in perfect time. She didn't pay too much attention to those who were listening, but she managed to bring out a rare smile from Auguste, and even Lilian was greatly taken by her voice. The brothers had heard her sing once before, but they were also pleased with her performance.

"That was exquisite." Auguste complimented the singer, as soon as she was finished, while the others gave her their applause.

"Exquistie?!" Raoul laughed. "Christine, you managed to make Auguste use a word fit for poetry, when he would otherwise say 'fine' or 'excellent'! Though your performance is as angelic as when you sang that song in _Hannibal_." He quickly added, to make sure that she knew that he appreciated her performance too.

"Angelic..." Lilian mused to herself.

* * *

Christine wondered if she was suited for the company of the upper class.

Once everyone settled back down, Philippe seemed more interested in talking about what was happening in the world of politics, which Christine found to be rather dry, while Lilian seemed to be very engaged in the discussion to the point of arguing with Philippe once or twice. It seemed that she had a strong stance on politics that was rather unexpected for someone who proclaimed themselves to be a researcher of the fantastical.

Even Auguste seemed bored by the talk of politics, and Raoul tried to turn the subject to the Opera House, but he was thwarted at every turn. Philppe and Lilian then turned to gossiping about other people that they knew, and Raoul occasionally joined in.

Christine found herself longing to go back to the Opera House and her mind drifted off into the make believe, when she wasn't mentally reviewing the songs that she would sing next week at Lady DuBois home.

"And of course, Auguste was invited to the party, but he refused. He says that parties are not his sort of thing." Philippe turned to the man, who also looked ready to tune out of the conversation until he was mentioned.

"Can we not discuss my lack of a presence in society?" Auguste turned to Lilian. "Perhaps something interesting, like a creature or story from our native land that Mademoiselle Blanchett has found?"

The lady smirked. "I found a few, but nothing horribly exciting."

"There are quite a few ghost stories in Paris" Lilian continued "yet none of them hold that special detail or spark that I am looking for. The only thing that remotely fascinates me is the infamous catacombs, and though I've been down there at least five times, there's still nothing to convince me to stay here for too long."

"Good lord, _how_ many times?" Raoul gasped.

"I have a fondness for the macabre, Vicomte." Lilian gave Raoul a dark smile. "It comes with my profession."

"It's rather unexpected for a woman to be interested in such things." Philippe seemed uncomfortable by this revealation.

"Well, I suppose I'm not who I appear to be." Lilian's gaze drifted to Christine. "Perhaps there is more to all of us than meets the eye."

Christine's grip on her tea cup tightened.

"Out of curiosity, what happened to La Carlotta to make her unable to perform?" Lilian asked. "That was rotten luck on her part, if you ask me."

Christine's mind was racing. She would have to give a half truth, like she did for everyone else, and yet there was something about Lilian that made it difficult for Christine to speak with her. Maybe it was the fact that she was interested in the supernatural and mythological and was a person away from uncovering something that would _really_ grab her attention.

"W..well-" Christine took a sip of her tea before she could began to speak. "She _did_ fall ill before the opening night. She has a tendency to claim illness when-"

That was when Auguste saved her with an odd question: "Are you afraid of spiders?"

"No." Christine raised her eyebrows in confusion. "Why do you ask?"

He pointed to a spot on her chair, and Christine glanced on the arm rest to see a big black spider crawling towards her.

"Oh," Christine said simply.

Then, to everyone's surprise, Christine placed her hand down for the spider to crawl on it, before she raised it up to get a closer look at it. She watched as the spider tried to crawl off of of her hand for a few seconds, before picking a napkin up and cupping the creature inside it.

She thought, for one scary moment, that Erik had managed to follow her after all. If the spider had been him, it wouldn't have tried to bite her (which it didn't) or leave her hand. But no; it was just an ordinary spider.

"I think I'll let this poor fellow out." Christine declared as she got up. "Where's the backyard?"

"I'll lead you." Raoul was very grateful for a chance to speak with Christine alone, and he lead her in the right direction.

"That... was peculiar." Auguste rubbed his lower jaw. "Most people I know are afraid of spiders, and yet she went as far as to pick that one up."

"Indeed that was." Lilian mused.

Christine carefully held the spider in between the napkin and walked out to the backyard, where she gently dropped the spider into one of the flowered bushes and backed away, feeling accomplished for the fact that she had managed to save a life.

"I see you still have a heart for the less fortunate, Lotte."

Christine turned and smiled to Raoul. "The poor thing doesn't deserve to die: it catches the pests, while it spins itself a beautiful home."

Raoul walked towards Christine and rested against the bannister. "I suppose it does." He agreed.

They fell to silence as they observed the well cared for landscape of the de Chagny's residence.

"So..." Raoul spoke as he tried to think of something to say and couldn't. He wanted to know the truth about the voice, but where to start? "How exactly do they clean that chandelier?"

"What?" Christine laughed. "Of all the things you want to ask me, it's that?"

Damnit! "Well, it's a lovely chandelier." Raoul began pathetically. "But I can't imagine that thing sticking up there forever."

"Oh, they raise the central ceiling up into the room above the chandelier." Christine informed him. "The workers do this every month or two to clean and inspect it, so that it'll retain it's shine. I think it's a dangerous job, but it's a risk worth taking."

"Ah," Raoul was actually impressed. "I suppose you would have to be careful which such a beautiful part of the theater."

"Everyone is fond of the chandelier." Christine smiled before turning to him. "Look at us: was this anything we expected for our futures? You are seeing the world, and I had a chance to shine on stage for at least three nights in a row."

"I haven't seen all of the world." Raoul admitted. "I've been to parts of Europe, America, Canada, and even near the Antarctic at one point. There's a lot that I wish that I could tell you in this moment."

"Me too." Christine confessed. "There've been so many things that have happened to me that have been so abrupt and almost hard to believe. Yet it feels as though it's still going to be sometime before my life goes somewhere." She held her arms out into the air. "I'm hoping that my future will give me opportunities. Maybe one day I will perform in Austria, Italy, England- somewhere where I can sing for as many people as I can, and enjoy myself while doing it. There are so many roles that I will be able to perform now- so many stories to get lost in-"

She stopped herself and laughed. "Sorry. The dreamer in me caught hold of my mind."

"No, it's fine." Raoul smiled. "To hear you be so passionate makes me happy for you."

Christine blushed. "W-well there's more to life than being passionate." She bit her lip. "I've had to learn that the hard way."

* * *

"A secret passage in the cellars of the Opera House?" The chief scene shifter laughed. "I would believe it, but I think you're asking the wrong person little Giry."

Meg crossed her arms together. "But you know quite a lot about the inside of this building, Monsieur Buquet. Surely you encountered something unusual."

"I am the master of the upper levels of the stage, not the cellars." Joseph told the ballerina as he tended to the ropes. "I admit, a secret mirror room with no escape sounds pretty fantastical, but I can't imagine why someone would want to build such a thing. You could try to seek out one of the previous builders; I doubt Charles Garnier himself would have the time to answer your question- if he's still around, that is."

Meg sighed in disappointment. "Thanks anyway, Monsieur Buquet." She walked away from the man and made her way through the rafters. She then felt a chill in the air, but this time, she was prepared for it.

"I see that you decided to seek me out for a change." She whispered.

"And I see that you are still sticking your nose where it shouldn't be." A curiously frustrated voice replied. "I thought I discouraged you from trying to find an answer to something as unbelievable or as dangerous as the place where we first met."

Meg turned around to see Erik. The jinn was dressed in his usual robes, and he had a very displeased scowl on the part of his face that she could see.

"Well, I tried to ask as much as I could, without making anyone too suspicious, and if I ask mama, she'll kill me and Christine." Meg stiffly turned around and began to head back to the ballet studio. As she made her way, she could sense that she was being followed.

"What do you want?" Meg asked as she walked down the stairs.

"Where is Christine?"

"' _Where is Christine?'_ " Meg asked in confusion.

"Don't try me, Mademoiselle." Erik hissed. "She isn't here, and I know that she would have confided in you. Where did she go?"

Meg was now surprised. "I... I honestly don't know." She confessed. She would have reached the bottom of the steps, had a wall of fire not suddenly raisen up in front of her, and she let out a string of curses in her shock.

"Did she go to see the Vicomte de Chagny?! Answer me now!"

After she calmed down, Meg groaned and ran a hand over her face as she turned to face Erik. "You have serious control issues, you know that?!"

"I'm warning you-"

"I don't know!" Meg was exasperated. "I haven't seen her since this morning! I'm honestly not surprised that she didn't tell me, if she saw this outburst coming!"

Erik glared at her for a few moments as he tried to see if she was being honest with him. When he admitted defeat, he turned his head from Meg and made the fires die with a wave of his hand.

"You're such a drama queen." Meg sighed as she continued her way to the studio. "How she puts up with you, I'll never know."

Moments later, Meg realized that she was still being followed.

"Why are you still following me?" She asked.

"Apparently, your friend doesn't trust you enough to tell you where she went." Erik said. "Does that not bother you?"

"A little!" Meg confessed. "I am concerned about what happened to her, or where she went off to, but-"

"Tell me Giry: are you jealous of your friend?"

"...What kind of question is that?" Meg asked sharply.

"It's a simple question. Are you-"

"I'm not going to play this game with you!" She hissed. "You're trying to get me on your side and turn me against my friend! Had it ever occurred to you that Christine doesn't always need you around all the time? Considering your argument with her from that one day, I'm not surprised that she didn't tell you!" She proceeded to enter the ballet studio.

Erik's eyes dangerously narrowed as she followed her. "Watch what you say, Giry. I could easily turn you into something that's quite the opposite of a ballerina, like an elephant, if you continue to get on my bad side."

Meg snapped and turned to face him. "My God! Have you ever considered what Christine wants?! You can't expect that everything will always go your way!"

That did it.

Erik held his hand out, as if ready to cast a spell, but Meg was faster as she quickly yelled out:

"I WISH THAT YOU WOULD JUST D-"

Erik's reaction was fast. In less then a second, he quickly rushed to the ballerina and firmly clamped a hand over her mouth.

Meg almost gagged on the sudden contact. His hand felt cold to the touch, but there was also something off... it as as if his hand had a very off-scent about it.

"I just spared you from doing something very reckless." Erik warned. "Watch where you speak, or else you'll embarrass yourself."

When Meg shot him a confused look, he turned his head to the mirror.

Meg followed his gaze to see a very confused group of young ballerinas, who looked at Meg as if she were some sort of escaped lunatic. Worse yet, Sorelli was with Meg's mother, who was giving Meg a very concerned, yet perplexed look.

"Uh... Meg, are you ok?" A young ballerina asked.

As Meg's eyes widened in shock, Erik let go of her mouth. "I hope this serves as a lesson to you." Erik told her. "I can easily damage a career as well as I can build it up, without lifting a finger. And it doesn't even have to be by my own hand."

Meg glared in anger at Erik. "Is this who you really are when things don't go your way?" she asked.

"Meg?" Madame Giry asked. "Are you feeling alright?"

"Be careful as to which questions you ask, or else you'll be beyond the point of no return." Erik warned as Meg's mother waited for a response. "And don't you _dare_ try to test me ever again."

"You win this round Erik." Meg whispered. "But if I witness the moment that you get utterly humiliated, I will remember this moment, and I'll laugh out in triumph over the justice given back to me."

"Meg?!"

Erik gave Meg a smirk. "I can assure you that will never happen Meg. I'm far to clever to let that happen to me."

"I'll keep my eyes and ears alert." Meg grimly replied as she left the studio. "And for God's sakes, go play on one of your instruments, or whatever it is that you like to do! You have a life too, don't you?!"

As Erik disappeared, a few girls nervously giggled. "She's mad!" One of them whispered to the other.

* * *

Time passed as the two conversed about what had happened since they last saw each other, and up until now, it had been very pleasant.

Raoul couldn't take it anymore. He had to ask her the question that was bothering him.

"Christine, are you certain that you aren't seeing anyone else at the moment? Anyone who won't be offended by us meeting together again?"

 _If you value your career, you will stay away from them._ A voice hissed in her mind.

"I'm not." Christine said quickly. "Well, I suppose Madame Giry will be furious. This isn't the first time I went somewhere without telling her." She laughed at the memories of that one day in Russia, before sobering up. "Also, my teacher is very strict on who I should spend my time with. Honestly, it's like he cares more about my career, than anything else about me!" She scowled.

"And was he there, the night you sang?" Raoul asked as he wondered about those last words she said to the man in question.

"He was, but I'd rather not speak about him." Christine sighed. "He didn't want me to meet up with you. What do you think that says about him?"

"He loves you." Raoul suddenly blurted out in a moment of jealousy.

"What on earth makes you think that?!" Christine was surprised by this, but her cheeks turned red. Why did this assumption always come up when it came to her and Erik?

"Because he said himself that he was bound to you."

Christine felt her heart stop once again and she flinched. "And... _how_ do you know that?" She tried to calmly ask as horror was rose inside her.

"I overheard you outside your door! You said that you gave your soul to him that night! He said that 'the angels wept tonight!" Raoul accused. "What I can't understand is why he hid himself from us in your room. Ws he behind the changing screen?"

Christine's realized that Raoul had come incredibly close to discovering the truth about Erik. However, she realized the reason why he found out in the first place, and horror turned to anger.

"...You were eavesdropping outside my door?!"

"I didn't mean to, but it can't be helped when you hear a man practically declare his love to you!" Raoul angrily retorted. "You said yourself that you aren't seeing anyone, and yet you swore to give your soul to your so called 'Angel of Music'!"

Christine let out a noise of frustration. She could not speak the truth for many various reasons, and yet she was angry at these accusations. "I am not seeing anyone Raoul! What you heard was the voice of my teacher, and nothing more!"

"Then this man must be playing a game upon you and upon everyone involved with you! Christine, I was hoping that I would have a chance to visit and catch up with you, but I can't if there is another man in your life!"

"It's not like that! He's not my lover!"

"That's definitely not what I heard from behind your-"

"Raoul." Philippe's voice suddenly cut through. "What the devil is going on here?"

The two old friends turned to face Philippe, who gave Christine a very cold and displeased look. "It appears that you have made a mistake." He told Raoul. "Perhaps I should cut to the chase with Mademoiselle Daae."

Philippe walked towards the young woman, who felt all her anger flush away as she recalled the rumors of just how cruel the older de Chagny could be when he was angered.

"So you say that you are not seeing anyone, and yet you 'give away your soul' to a man." Philippe began. When Christine couldn't bring herself to speak, he continued.

"I am not a fool, Mademoiselle Daae. I have been at the Opera House for many years now and I am aware of the relationship you have with my brother. I understand that you have a promising career ahead of you, but you have no title, nor much money to your name."

Christine flinched. "What are you saying?" She asked.

"You agreed to meet my brother out of nostalgia, and yet you gave away a hint that you are somehow tied to another man. Now, I am wondering if you are trying to use my brother to your own whims, as well as your career; You do realize the scandal that you will cause will ruin your career as well as your reputation, correct?"

"I'm not trying to use Raoul!" Christine protested as Raoul also yelled "Dear God Philippe, do you have make this even worse?!"

Philippe paused, before turning to Raoul. "Leave us." He commanded.

"Broth-"

"LEAVE!"

Raoul hesitantly obeyed his brother and went back inside. Philippe shut the doors behind them and turned to face Christine.

"My brother has six months to find a suitable fiancé before he must go off on a dangerous expedition." Philippe began. "He needs someone who not only can be there for him when he is home, but can also have a stable income and education, unless she is from a well off family. I admit that I have been well acquainted with certain members of the Opera, like La Sorelli, but I could not marry her because we would have little time together, and I know that her dancing is important to her. This would be the same for you but there is much more at stake in your favor."

"I'm afraid I must be quite blunt with you Mademoiselle: if you are already seeing someone behind my brother's back, one wrong move in these affairs will send you out on the streets, friendless, and alone. There is too little that you can provide to Raoul that no one else could. Even as children, you both created a scandal through the fact that your father was a poor wanderer with little stability, and we wondered if the both of you were trying to take advantage of Raoul's friendship or not."

Never had a blow been as fierce as the one that Christine felt. In just one moment, Philippe had insulted her status, her past, her relationship to Raoul, and most importantly, her father's memory.

"My advice? I would stay away from Raoul for the next six months and think about my career if I were you. I know it will be unavoidable since we are patrons of the arts, but you would do well to stay on the stage, and not even dare attempt to cross over the orchestra pit and out into the audience while you are still an understudy."

"How _dare_ you." Christine hissed. "My father was an honorable man, and he taught me better than to take advantage of those more fortunate than us! If I didn't know any better, I would say that you were trying to force Raoul into a marriage out of a need to continue your family line, while you get to go off and waste the time of someone like Sorelli by tricking them into thinking that they could have a happy courtship and get married!"

She regretted her words the second they came out. Her anger was so great, that her restraints were destroyed.

Philippe's eyes flashed in anger, and Christine expected an outburst, but nothing came. He only stared at her for a moment, as if she had the audacity to accuse him of his faults.

"You were charming to have in our house, but I'm afraid that you overstayed your welcome." Philippe stiffly concluded as he moved to the side. "Kindly leave the premises."

Christine glared at Philippe as the pain swelled inside her, but she forced herself to move back into the house and collect her belongings and leave.

"It was nice to met you, Monsieur." Christine told Auguste, before she walked out the door.

"Christine?" Raoul asked. "Where are you going?!"

"I hope you enjoy your time back in Paris without me Raoul." Christine curtly told him without looking back. "It appears that your brother finds me too distracting for you."

"What the- PHILIPPE?!" Raoul hurried back in the house in anger. "WHAT DID YOU TELL HER?!"

Christine didn't dare to remove her stoic mask while she was near the chateau. It was only when she finally turned the corner and onto another street that she finally let out her tears of anger and humiliation and tightened her grip on her bag and cloak as she hugged it to her body.

She was, however, being watched from the side of the chateau by Lilian Blanchett. The woman's curiosity drove her to listening to both conversations, which increased her interest in Christine Daae.

"Christine Daae." She murmured as she heard Fantine approach her. She turned to the maid and gave her a sickly sweet smile as she lifted a hand to the chocker and caressed the ruby with her thumb.

As if she were a volcano that was way past it's boiling point, Fantine let loose a violent curse.

"YOU DAMNED WITCH!" She yelled. "I HOPE YOU LAND IN A PILE OF SH-!"

Lilian quickly jabbed the ruby with her thumb and Fantine's mouth shut quickly, cutting her off mid-curse. The girl fought to speak, and she glared in anger at her mistress.

"As much as I want to hear your colorful vocabulary, my dear," Lilian pressed a finger to Fantine's lips, and the maid smacked her arm away in retaliation. "I'm afraid that a bigger game is afoot."

She glanced to where Christine had left. "It appears that our songbird is hiding something." Lilian mused. "Her success sounds too good to be true. Perhaps," Lilian held her chin in her hand. "Perhaps there is something going on behind the curtains at this Opera House. Perhaps..."

She glanced to Fantine. "We will have to tread carefully inside the Opera House, Fantine." She declared. "It's time that I found something to like about the performing arts. Maybe I _can_ withstand several hours of music."

"And who knows." She smiled. "I might actually find the very thing that I was looking for to begin with."

* * *

 **Erik was originally going to act more annoying towards Meg than hostile, before the canon version inside my head began to try to take over. He's still friends with Meg (or at least I hope he is) but it's hard to make him act any differently, and I don't want him to lose too much of what makes Erik who he is.**

 **I tend to get annoyed at the 'you can't marry Raoul because you are a performer' cliche, and I think that there is more at stake for Christine in terms of status and background (as I am guessing was part of that era).**

 **Fun fact: I recently did some Phantom of the Opera sketches on under the name tornrose24. One of them includes a sketch based off this fan fic (using the features of the actors that I mentioned all the way back in chapter one which, again, you can ignore if you want to replace them with another version in your head) and it is titled 'PotO sketches (plus a cameo)'.**

 **Except... I didn't like how Erik's robe turned out. If I make another set of drawings with something from this fic, I'll re-do the robe.**


	10. The reflection in the mirror

**Another shout out to my beta** L van Am **, who went through with corrections, despite being busy with things in life. I really appreciate it. :)**

 **Here comes a couple of risks that I took with this story and at this point in time of the events. I have wanted to write a few of them out for awhile, but it is now a question of whether or not I have succeeded.**

 **I have no clue what type of organ Erik owns in the musical, so I don't know it's proper name: I only know that it's not the kind with the pipes.**

 **Lyrics to** _ **Poor fool, he makes me laugh**_ **belong to... I'm guessing Charles Heart and Richard Stilgoe? I can't credit Webber if he didn't write them.**

* * *

 **10: The reflection in the mirror**

Christine had walked the whole way from the chateau to the district where the Opera House was located, and though her feet were getting sore, she could care less.

Philippe's words repeated over and over inside her head. Try as she might, she could not get them out of her head as memories of her past played out before her.

The days when she used to stare enviously at other girls who had fine dresses and dolls... the nights when she slept together with her father in piles of straw and hay outside inns because they couldn't afford a room, while her stomach growled out in hunger... singing for a few coins, just to get a meal... whispered accusations... threats towards her father for not giving her up to a better family... the snide remarks that she didn't attend a suitable school for young women...

 _Those horrible nights when she questioned her own worth... when her father passed away and she lost her voice, she wondered if there was anything left to live for._

Christine passed by a jewelry store. She caught her reflection in a mirror with a faux jeweled frame that was behind a glass plane when she tried to avoid eye contact with other passing citizens. Alongside the mirror, there were many dazzling necklaces and earrings, but to Christine it was a cruel mockery to those who would only be able to look.

Gone was the confident young woman from her debut in _Hannibal_ ; instead, there was only someone who looked as if she was trying too hard to fit into a place where she didn't feel like she belonged.

 _You would do well to stay on the stage, and not even dare attempt to cross over the orchestra pit and out into the audience while you are still an understudy._

 _I was rather distraught when I heard the news about what happened in my absence. Especially when I couldn't bear to think of how much I would be missed, when you had someone less experienced to take over for me_

 _We may be performers, but I am afraid that we will only be seen by the outside world as a way to pass the time. You may as well be a common street rat to the younger brother! For as long as we put on an act for our patrons, we will never truly be able to walk amongst the outside world. You will soon see, my dears!_

 _Even as children, you both created a scandal through the fact that your father was a poor wanderer with little stability, and we wondered if the both of you were trying to take advantage of Raoul's friendship or not._

With each passing voice, she could see her flaws both on the inside and the outside.

She felt that sting of 'what if' which was the most painful thing to ever think of for anyone. What if she had been more sensible? What if her family was better off from the start? What if she had found the strength to continue her studies? Perhaps she would have been respected enough to not be accused of trying to take advantage of her friend.

Christine noticed that her eye makeup was smeared, and she wiped it all off with the back of her gloved hand. She hated wearing the gloves and though she liked having her hair done up, it didn't make her feel comfortable about herself.

It felt as if she was trying to mask who she really was, both inside and out. She had to try to hide her boredom in the chateau since she barely cared about most of the topics they discussed. She didn't understand the need to observe and dissect the lives of the privileged, and politics and economy barely interested her, when all she wanted was to learn more about the people she had acquainted herself with. Then Philippe had to break her when he sensed her as a threat towards his family, without giving her a chance.

But worst of all was the fact that she was judged by _what_ she was: an orphaned chorus girl from Sweden with little to her name.

She ripped out the pins that held her hair up. It hurt, since they each seemed to take a strand or two out, but she wanted her hair to be completely free; nothing tied back or held in a bun. It all had to be loose and ready to fly in the wind, just as she liked it when she was a child, before the need to be an adult and look proper became more important.

Christine finally turned away from the mirror and continued her journey to the Opera House.

Christine almost bumped into an unusual looking man with jade colored eyes while she ripped the pins out of her hair, and almost lost her way, but it wasn't until she reached the steps of her home that she succeeded in her endeavor. At least in the Opera House, she could feel free to be herself. At least she could escape in the fantasies and forget reality for several hours, if not work towards creating them.

Even _if_ she had to be told to not cross over the orchestra pit and join the elite.

Christine ignored the world around her as she tried to make her way to a place where she could be alone.

"Again with these demands for twenty thousand francs? Who the hell is this person and why haven't they shown their face?!" Firmin demanded to Andre as they nearly crossed paths with the soprano.

Unfortunately, Christine was not going to be granted the mercy of having privacy because, as she made her way through one of the opulent, chandelier lined hallways, a voice called for her.

"Christine, you're back!"

Christine glanced up and saw Rosina with a black book in her hands and Rebecca by her side.

"Oh!" Rebecca cooed at Christine. "That is such a pretty dress!"

"Everyone's been looking for you." Rosina informed Christine. "Apparently you didn't tell anyone where you went, and Madame Giry looks as if she's going to call for the gendarmes again."

Christine winced. "I... didn't realize it would take that long," she confessed as she realized the consequences for her actions. If _only_ her paranoia hadn't gotten the best of her; she just didn't want to draw unwanted attention to herself, and yet she still created an unwanted outcome from her moment of rebellion. She felt guilty for yet again worrying her guardian through her reckless actions.

"You better give them a good explanation." Rosina advised. "After all, I can only guess why you are dressed like that. Of course, after what happened with Meg earlier, you probably won't get too much an earful."

"Meg?" Christine concernedly asked.

"Meg was acting weird today," Rebecca said. "Apparently she came into the studio and was yelling at someone who wasn't there. We think she's going mad, and she's hiding herself in the dormitories; Rosina and I tried to get her to talk but she doesn't want to listen."

"She even bribed me with her collection of Edgar Allen Poe to keep us from asking any questions." Rosina held the book up.

Christine now gave the girls their complete attention. "What did she yell in the studio?"

"Well it had to do with you," Rosina tried to think. "And she was threatening whoever she thought she was speaking to... then she yelled 'go play on your instrument, you have a life.' or something of that sort."

Christine knew all too well from experience that Meg was _not_ going mad. "Is Meg still in the dormitories?" She asked as she knew that Meg would give her the more straightforward answer first.

* * *

Christine made sure that no one else was inside the chapel, before she gave the bottle a nervous look. The disguise was absent, and it had returned to its original form, down to the very white jewels that shimmered like sunlight upon water.

Now came the part that she hadn't been looking forward to upon her return. She took a deep breath and summoned Erik out.

The first thing she heard was a familiar organ, and when the smoke cleared away, the music ceased. The player had once again exchanged his more extravagant robe for a white shirt with its sleeves pulled halfway up his arms and a vest. When he sensed what had just happened, he let out a curse and flicked his hand out, before he gave Christine a very displeased glare.

"I already heard Meg's side of the story." Christine crossed her arms against her chest as Erik got up off his seat. "Could you kindly explain why you felt the need to threaten my best friend?"

"Could you explain why you thought it would be wise to leave without saying a word?" he retorted as he mimicked Christine and crossed his arms. "Or perhaps I am correct in assuming that you went against my word and visited the de Chagny brothers? Otherwise, you almost scared everyone who cared about you to death- _especially me_."

It was just as Meg told her.

"I didn't because I didn't want any gossip spreading," Christine began. "If I had to take a chaperone, they would have known where I was. I couldn't take Meg, because I didn't want her to get dragged into this, and finally, it's because I knew you would either try to stop me or follow me. I have a right to my privacy, thank you very much."

"And it seems that you wanted to make a good impression." Erik almost sneered as he looked at her dress. "Was that the real reason you bought the dress? To impress them with your womanly charm and beauty?"

"Are you really going to do this?!" Christine hissed, but Erik continued on as the fury in his voice increased with his accusations.

"I suppose that you are going to tell me that you'll see your childhood friend on one of your nights off. Next he'll invite you out into the country and you'll be torn between that and a week that could be spent practicing for the upcoming event, if not on that very night. The next thing you'll know, they'll try to force you to choose between your career and-"

"You won!" Christine cried furiously as she threw her hands out. "I'm not going back, because you were right about them!"

She rushed to the nearest stone wall and slammed a fist into it. Pain shot through her hand, but she didn't care. "You got what you wanted!" She tried to fight the tears back. "I don't belong with them! I get it! Is that what you wanted me to say?! Are you satisfied now?!"

She flung her back against the wall. "You won... you won..." Her voice wavered as she slid down the wall and into a sitting position, where she hugged her knees and bowed her head into them in defeat. All the while she held her arms out and gingerly nursed her now injured hand with the other one.

Though Erik knew that he should have been pleased by this, he didn't feel that way. On the contrary, Christine's reactions made him feel hollow, as if he had been granted a pyrrhic victory. He wondered just what on earth happened to cause such a change in the young woman's behavior; it was a rarity for her to become violent.

"What happened?" he slowly asked as his arms dropped to his sides.

"I just... forgot who I was." Christine's exhausted voice came out in a muffled sound.

"Can you please clarify?"

"You probably heard it before." Christine raised her head with a sigh. "Have you... ever been judged for something that's beyond your control? Have you ever felt that nobody can look past all your faults?"

Erik flinched: of all the things he was expecting her to say, that sinister familiarity was not it.

"What are you saying?" Erik demanded.

"I didn't ask to be born into poverty!" Christine yelled in frustration. "I didn't ask to be the daughter of a poor wandering musician who used to tend to the earth for a living!"

She took a deep breath. It hurt to try to keep her tears back, but she didn't want anyone's pity at the moment. Instead, she turned her gaze to the opposing wall.

"Philippe accused my father and me of trying to take advantage of my friendship with Raoul to gain more money! He had the audacity to think that I was trying to further my career through him!" Christine spat. "Then he told me to leave his brother alone because he's trying to get him a fianceé who has more money than I do, if not a different career or background. And this is when he's trying to stay single and play with the hearts of other women!

"God, are they all like that?!" Christine asked. "Are they all so ignorant that they take for granted what people like my father and I didn't have?! What I could only dream about?!

"It could have been _so_ easy!" Christine let out a weak laugh. "I could have stolen from others, and I could have tried to completely turn my back on singing! I could have taken my very life when I lost my father and my desire to sing. I bet I never told you that, did I?! The first time I was near Apollo's Lyre, I was standing on the edge, overlooking all of Paris and I didn't know what else to do-"

She took a deep breath that came out in a series of staccatos and tried to calm down. "No one knows what almost happened up there. Not even Meg." She rested the back of her head against the wall.

"But I didn't fall into temptation because I was taught by my father that it's best to appreciate what you do have and try to make the most out of what life gives to you. I can't ask for wealth because I don't want to take the easy way and I want to earn my dream the _right_ way, without taking any short cuts.

I didn't have an easy childhood, despite what people would think, but I wouldn't trade it, or my father, away for anything in the world, because I loved my father as if he were my whole world, and he knew how to make the most of what little we had. So if someone thinks that I'm worthless because I don't have much to my name, or if my father could have done better when he did the best he could, then what's the point of being anywhere near them?

"I know I'm not rich... I'm not intelligent, and I tend to make bad judgements-" Christine closed her eyes. "You don't understand what I'm saying, do you?"

The moments passed as Erik silently watched Christine, who was exhausted after letting everything she wanted to say come out. She was so lost in her mind that she almost didn't hear his confession.

"I understand how it feels to be judged by another for something that's out of your control... And I know what it's like to be angry at those who take their blessings for granted. To rage against those who belittle and mock you...to lose the desire to live- I know those feelings far more than you could possibly realize, Christine."

He turned back to his organ and when he sat down, he began to play something upon it. He didn't know what he was playing, but it was slow and almost mournful. In each note, he tried to pour out the memories of his own haunted past, which he tried so hard to forget.

Christine finally opened her eyes and glanced at Erik. Without even thinking, she slowly got up on her feet, walked towards him as the music drew her in, and went around the organ to sit beside him.

She watched as his fingers danced across the keys and produced something that resonated with her. As if it could reach into her heart and connect with her frustrations and everything she wanted to forget about herself.

Her eyes glanced to the masked side of Erik that was facing her but she could not read his expression with the mask in the way, and his eyes were closed as he lost himself in his composition. Her eyes tried to drift away until she noticed something that she never saw before: between Erik's mask and the ear that was mostly covered up by his dark hair, was a patch of skin and white scar like tissue that appeared twisted as if he had been burnt.

She briefly recalled the number of times she had been this close to Erik, and the number of times he deliberately kept her from getting a good view of the right side of his face. But instead of focusing on this late discovery- whether it be because her mind was mentally exhausted, or because of some part of her just didn't care anymore- Christine instead glanced to the keys in front of her.

She didn't know how to play, and yet a part of her was desperately wanting to reach out and do something that could make her feel better, and leave her sorrow behind.

Slowly her right hand reached out and played a note on the organ.

At first, her involvement cause a dissonance as her fingers awkwardly stumbled across her set of keys, but then she was able to listen to the melody and play something that could change that dissonance into a harmony. She didn't dare try to use both hands, and instead just played whatever her fingers wanted to play.

So this was what it was like to have mastery over a piano or an organ. To allow one's fingers to produce anything that the heart desired. She could never master such an instrument like Erik had, and there was a huge difference between singing and playing this instrument; To sing was one thing, but to play an instrument was to be given complete control of every note and pitch, without physically struggling to reach for it.

His section of the organ ceased as her simple melody continued on and she could now hear it as clear as day. Those soft high notes played over and over again and tried to break free from simplicity and into mastery... finally, her left hand reached out and played a chord section that could go in time with her melody, which gave it a strength that it was lacking.

Her anger and her sorrow died away as her song played over and over. The music that she so loved was healing her soul and reminding her of why she was still surviving and still going, when all else fell apart.

Finally she felt like she had enough and allowed the notes to float away until she removed her hands from the organ.

"I'm sorry." She quietly apologized. "I don't know what came over me."

"There is nothing to be sorry for," Erik softly replied. "You turned to what gives you joy; you want to forget the world for just one moment, and then the moment will seem to last as if to eternity itself."

"I do feel better." Christine admitted as she lifted her head to the ceiling and closed her eyes. She felt at peace as a quiet passage of time passed between the two performers.

"You're going to join me at Lady DuBois' home, aren't you?" Christine asked as she opened her eyes.

"I will be there only if you want me to," Erik decided. "I lost your trust, and I want to earn it back."

"But will you be there as yourself?" Christine somewhat hopefully asked. "Not in disguise, or unseen to all but me, but just as you the way you are?"

"I..." Erik paused. "That is one request I can never grant to you," He reluctantly told her.

"Why? Are you afraid of someone recognizing you?"

"I'm afraid the root of that problem runs deeper than the fear of recognition. Your future is as good as ruined, if you are seen with me out in public."

"I see..." Christine felt disappointed. She wondered what Erik meant by those enigmatic words, but she didn't want to dare press her luck with him.

After a moment, she got up off the stool, but the moment she stood up, Erik's hand immediately reached out and grabbed her wrist as if she was going to disappear from him for forever. She looked down to see that he was staring off at something ahead of him as if contemplating something very important.

"...After the performance at Lady DuBois," he began as his grip loosened enough for his hand to slide down and hold Christine's hand. "I'll tell you what it is that I would wish for, if given the chance. I made a promise to you, and despite the most likely outcome of what you will discover on that night, it's time that I kept it."

"Do you really mean that?" Christine asked.

"I am also considering myself to be making a foolish mistake," Erik finally glanced up at her "but perhaps I've misjudged you. Maybe I can take a risk with you, if you were willing to open your heart to me the way you just did."

Christine finally managed to smile. "Well... maybe this day didn't turn out so bad after all. I was able to play alongside you, for one thing."

She made to move, but his grip on her tightened and she glanced back down.

"Christine," Erik looked as if he wanted to say something, but he changed his mind as he examined her. "I have to take back a lot of what I said today: that dress and color suit you."

Christine felt a small blush in her cheeks. "Thank you."

He finally let go of her hand and Christine took a few steps back. For one moment, she made as if to head to the door, before she turned back to face him-

-only to see that the musician and the instrument had vanished, as if they were never there to begin with.

* * *

Time passed in the opera, and things stayed relatively normal. _Hannibal_ continued without any mishaps, although many members of the audience were curious about the now famous understudy, who was forced back into the chorus while Carlotta sang the part of Elissa. Luckily for them, Christine's talent had not gone unnoticed by Reyer, Gabriel, or Mercier as all three sensed her potential while they began to pin point certain actors who could perform certain parts in the next possible production at the opera.

One night, Lilian watched the performance with little interest, with the sole exception of Christine Daae, the unexpected star with a voice that was almost too divine to belong to a human being. Meanwhile, Christine did not suspect that the researcher had her eyes upon her the entire time.

When night fell to day, everyone went about their ways until the next performance, while Christine practiced her repertoire for the upcoming event at Lady DuBois. Each song had its own challenges, and she wanted to face them head on until she became mistress over them all. Her unusual tutor could not have been more pleased with her eagerness to learn, or her rapid progress. This upcoming performance would win the full support of the connoisseurs of music and the arts, and would ensure that she would get the next major role in whatever production would come next.

And then, one fateful afternoon before the long awaited night...

* * *

Meg had snuck into her mother's office and was going through some old souvenirs that Madame Giry kept hidden away behind a locked closet filled with a few coats and hats.

"Where the _hell_ is Buquet?" A voice- one the stagehands of the Opera- grumbled from the door frame as he passed by the hall. "He's been missing all day! He has to get back here before the show starts!"

"He probably went to a tavern to take a break," Was his companion's reply.

Meg gave up on her excursion and was about to leave, when she heard her mother's voice coming from the hallway.

"-she's been doing remarkably well. I suppose it's about time she was given a lead role."

Meg bolted into the closet and closed the door: her mother would gave her a great scolding if she was caught rummaging through her belongings.

"If what they say about you is true, then she will make a fine Prima Ballerina," An unfamiliar male voice with a curious accent replied. It was then that the door to the studio was closed.

There was a pause.

"I'm glad you received my message," the man spoke. "I really did not mean to intrude, after I promised that I wouldn't return, but I have to make sure my suspicions are not correct."

"Suspicions?" her mother asked.

"I think that _the first one_ is here in Paris."

Meg wondered what he meant. What was _the first one_?

"What?" the man asked in concern. "What is wrong?"

Meg couldn't make out hear her mother's low reply but there was a sharp intake of air from the man.

"I should have known!" He cursed. "If it wasn't for that specter who watched over the cellars at that time-" Another pause. "How do you know that he's not listening to us?"

"I've figured out enough to know that we are safe at this moment in time," Her mother replied. "It's been many years since that time, but I know the signs."

"How-" The man sounded afraid. "How many? You know what I am referring to."

There was a long pause.

"Allah!" He gasped. "I am so sorry, Antoinette! If I knew that this could have happened-" another pause. "Is she safe?"

"It's not just her," Her mother answered with a slight tremble in her voice. "I'm afraid there is someone also dear to me who is in even _more_ trouble."

"I see..." The man sounded helpless.

Another uncomfortable period of silence passed.

"You still have the music box," He suddenly commented.

"I do." Her mother replied. "I hid the note you sent me inside the monkey's robes. The note you sent when we thought... well, you know."

Meg felt her heart race: why did she get the nasty feeling that she knew what they were talking about?

"You have to help me put a stop to all of this," The man determinedly answered. "You know exactly what has to be done-"

"I don't even know where it could be," Madame Giry answered. "Even if I did-"

"I live near the Rue Scribe in the flat with the red stoned wall, in number 506. If I am not there at two in the afternoon, then Darius should be waiting for you."

"I can't let another person I love get hurt because of me."

Another pause.

"Does your daughter know the real reason why your husband died?"

Meg held a hand to her mouth and fought the urge to gasp. _What_ were they talking about?!

"No!" Madame Giry cried. "I can't _ever_ tell her what happened to Jules! Especially considering the situation we are in!" Another pause. "Our time is growing short. We have to take this conversation elsewhere."

"I agree: it's not safe to speak here. Who knows who could be listening to us from the shadows unseen?"

Meg waited until she heard the door close. She chose that moment to leave the closest.

"What on earth?" she wondered out loud until her eyes caught sight of the music box with the monkey inside it on her mother's desk. So there was a note hiding inside it?

She went over and forced the top to come open to reveal the monkey. It glared at her in anger with its glassy looking eyes, but she ignored it and felt around it's clothing, until she found a tiny folded up piece of paper in the back of its jacket and pulled it out..

Her eyes noticed something on the desk that was out of place: normally the picture of her with Christine was propped up, but it was laying on its back. Did one of the two previous occupants of the room look at it?

Meg turned back to the note. With trembling hands, she unfolded the letter to reveal just three words. Three words written in very familiar handwriting that she had only seen once before, when Christine discovered the jasmine gown.

Meg Giry had no clue what to do now, but she knew that she needed answers. She needed to find the man that her mother had spoken to. Most importantly, she needed to know if she and Christine were trapped in a deadly game and were not aware of it.

Three words:

 _Erik is dead._

* * *

It was _very_ rare for Erik to look into a mirror, and this was one of those times.

At first, he wasn't staring at his reflection, but rather he was contemplating the metaphorical mirror that he accidentally awakened.

" _Have you... ever been judged for something that's beyond your control? Have you ever felt that nobody can look past all your faults?"_

Christine's words played in his head as he thought back to that moment... that moment in which Christine had more or less summed up his own anguish against the world.

Their circumstances were different, of course, but he never imagined that Christine would find some sort of common ground with him. It was an unintentional tie that brought them closer together as kindred spirits, whether he liked it or not.

His thoughts were crashing together: he wanted to kill Philippe for dare insulting Christine and for making her feel as miserable about herself. He wanted to know how close he had been to the moment she felt like taking her own life. He wanted to go back to that moment when he complimented her in her dress and add what he wanted to say: that she was passionate, thoughtful, kind (and _beautiful_ , in both voice and in face) and that any man would be a fool for turning her down for status and wealth. That if he was in the position of either of those two men and had all their advantages, he would chose her over all worldly possessions.

"I love her," Erik helplessly told his reflection. "I love her... I never want her to feel that way she did ever again... I don't want her to feel the way I've felt my throughout my whole existence."

He stared into his reflection again: he could see himself, but he also saw a living illusion as grand as the ones that he could create. For a very long time, this one illusion was maintained in front of all who knew or saw him, with Christine being the longest to date.

Could he remove the illusion from her eyes, and show her who he truly was?

Could he be able to face himself when the illusion was gone?

Slowly, his hands reached for his vest and unbuttoned it.

* * *

Outside the bottle, a number of chorus girls and ballerinas were laughing in merriment as they relaxed for the night.

" _Il Muto_ might be the next opera?" Lucille grinned cheekily. "Another opera of infidelity?!"

"A countess cheating on her old rooster of a husband for a mute!" Angelique giggled. "What a delightful mess that story is!"

"Do the thing, do the thing!" Clotilde squealed. "Sing the note, Angelique!"

Angelique stood in the center of the dormitory and arranged herself into a singing position. She then pulled her face into an exaggeration that made her look like old Don Attilio, hunched over like an old man, and she let out her infamous alto voice which she purposefully deepened to sound like a man:

" _I suspect my young bride is untrue to me,"_ She sang to the girls as she pointed a finger in the air. _"I shall not leave, but shall hide over there to observe herrrrrrrrrr!"_ She drew out the note for longer than it was supposed to be sung and her voice deepened to the point that it was more of a rumble in the distant mountains. This earned her a series of laughs from the girls.

* * *

When the vest fell to the floor, he undid the buttons of the shirt. All the while, he could hear the ballerinas and chorus girls sing from outside his confines.

Erik paused in undoing his shirt when he heard the voice of Angelique. Perhaps there were some surprises in the chorus that deserved to have a bit more recognition, in addition to Christine.

He turned back to the task at hand and resumed undoing the next button.

* * *

At this point, Christine entered the room. Lucille grinned and pulled Christine into the room. "Come on, Daae, we need a Countess!" She told her. "We're acting out _Il Muto_ , and your husband is the lovely Angelique!"

Angelique wiggled her fingers at Christine in a perverted manner, and the girl couldn't help but let out a laugh. _"Addio!"_ She crooned.

" _Addio,"_ Christine responded as she walked to Angelique, before the girls started to dance in a circle, with the latter pretending to hobble around with a cane in her hand. " _Addio!"_ They sang in a loving manner, before Angelique moved to sit down between Rebecca and Rosina.

* * *

The shirt joined the vest on the ground and Erik was given a very good reflection of his appearance. The billowing robe was a big factor in maintaining the illusion, and even the shirt by itself felt large enough to hide what was underneath.

His frame was almost skeletal; everything- from the collar bone to the rib cage- was almost completely sticking out from behind pale flesh that was ridden with multiple scars. Most of the scars looked like angry white splotches or faint line marks from the multiple attempts against his life, and he knew that he carried many more across his back. His hand reached back and his fingers brushed against several lines of scar tissue that built up in the healing process, in addition to a very prominent spine that felt as if it was covered by only a thin layer of skin like parchment.

One very noticeable feature on his body were the markings over his heart: written in the Persian alphabet were the restraints that kept him from going against the rules that were placed upon him, whether he liked it or not. It was supposed to be his personal scarlet letter, but it paled in comparison to the last part of the illusion of his body.

The most important part of the illusion.

* * *

"Who is our Serafimo?" Suzanne asked.

"Me!" Clotilde shot up and joined Christine as she pulled her dress up to reveal stocking covered legs, which caused more giggling.

" _Serafimo- away with this pretense!"_ Christine sang. _"You cannot speak, but kiss me in my husband's absence!"_

Clotilde mockingly kissed Christine's cheek and danced away from Christine, as she slipped into her role with all the charm and airy grace required for her performance.

* * *

His eyes raised to his face, which was two thirds hidden under the mask. What was not covered up looked normal, and Christine had apparently found it handsome, if the observations she made when she thought he didn't notice (and he did) was any indication, and the vain side of him was secretly pleased by this. Even her naive friend was open about finding him handsome.

He wanted to laugh at their ignorance, and it was then that the harsh reality set in.

Erik slowly raised his hands up his neck, over his jaw, and over his ears- one normal and one so distorted and twisted on his head that it looked as if it didn't even exist or was melted into his flesh. His hands finally touched the black wig and his fingertips brushed against the wire that held the mask to his face.

He closed his eyes and simultaneously pulled the wig and the mask off.

He could feel everything under be exposed, such as his head, which was covered by a sparse amount of long or wild strands of hair that were either black or white and dead looking.

But the most exposed part of all was his-

" _Poor fool he makes me laugh, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha!"_

He heard a familiar voice and glanced over his left shoulder in alarm. From outside his confines, Christine let out more pealing, yet charming laughs. _"Time I tried to get a better half!"_

His heart twisted as her words came out as more of a mockery towards him than anything else. Of _all_ the songs she could have sang- that they all could have sang in _that_ moment-

Against his better judgement he turned his head and was given a full glance of what was hiding under the mask.

He stood petrified in horror and self-loathing as the mask- the last part of the illusion- slipped out of his hands and fell to the floor at his feet.

For as long as he had been with those two girls- _especially_ with Christine- it had been easy to forget about the truth and he felt as if he was not only accepted, but _wanted_ (and a part of him regretted that what friendship he had with Mademoiselle Giry was in jeopardy because of his recent actions.). He felt normal and almost human when he was with them.

But then, time began to pass, and his feelings towards Christine grew to the point that he desired her in _every_ possible way and he had to fight those urges for her sake. With those feelings of powerful emotion came the realization of the reality of what he was really trying to hide... what he _really_ was.

The reason for his jealousy towards the younger of the de Chagnys... the reason he hated the world... the reason that Christine almost gave him what would have been, in reality, his first true kiss... the very reason behind what he didn't dare tell Christine this whole time, and what he promised to show within a week's time-

Was staring right back at him in the mirror in all it's twisted, hideous glory.

" _Poor fool he doesn't know! hohohohoho!"_ The girls and Christine's innocent singing and mockery turned dark in his ears and came across as something far more twisted and unbearable for him to take. _"If he knew the truth, he'd never let her go-"_

In a burst of uncontrolled anger and frustration that had been burning inside him for as long as he could remember, Erik let out a long, horrendous cry of anguish that sounded more monstrous and frightening than human as it raised in pitch and he smashed his fists against the mirror.

It was a cry that was so powerful that it escaped his confines and echoed in the dormitories as if he were standing right in the middle of the room.

All the gaiety and laughter turned to panic.

"HOLY MOTHER OF CHRIST!" Jammes shrieked while a handful of the younger girls screamed.

All the girls felt as if a ghost were amongst them; a ghost full of hatred and anger as he continuously let out that long, awful wail. A lot of them backed into the walls and into their beds in panic, while some just stayed rooted to the spot where they stood.

Christine was especially shocked at the awful sound. She recognized that voice that was filled with overwhelming anger and utter despair.

She didn't know whether she wanted to comfort the source or run away in fear as that terrible cry finally died away. She was entirely helpless, so long as she had to continue holding her secret from the other girls.

* * *

Time passed inside Erik's confines as he slowly dropped to his knees and his fists slid down the cracked mirror. Whatever fragments were left inside the mirror tore at the already damaged and bloodied flesh of his hands, but he could care less. He finally collapsed to the ground in complete defeat and shut his eyes, as he dared not wish to catch another glimpse of himself in any of the shards that were surrounding him.

He told her the closest thing possible to the truth, but if he couldn't handle seeing _this._.. would she be able to do the same?

Time slowly passed, and his mind was blank. There was no music inside his head to comfort him now.

Outside the bottle, Christine had waited until everyone had fallen asleep or had run off to find another, safer place, out of a fear that they were now cursed. She knelt in front of the black bottle and gave it a concerned look.

She had no idea what her true feelings for Erik were. At times, he could almost scare her with his anger, and yet he could be the most amazing person in all of existence. She admired him... she wanted to kiss him, in her moment of weakness.

But now, she was worried for him, and she wanted to understand what caused such a horrendous reaction.

Little did she know, was that if there wasn't a wall separating them, then she might as well have been kneeling right in front of him as he sat all around the shards of a mirror that painfully reminded him of what he really was.

" _Erik?"_ He could have sworn he heard her voice, which was filled with worry. _"Erik, are... are you alright?"_

He didn't answer, but he did as she did in the chapel: he drew his knees to his body and rested his grotesque head against them, while trying to ignore feeling of two varying textures of flesh against flesh, as well as his injured hands.

Tonight, he would ignore her, for her own safety: let the monster rot in his cell, where he couldn't lash out at the princess.

* * *

 **Uh, guys? This is based off Aladdin, not Frozen; get your Disney movies right!**

 **In all honesty, I couldn't resist providing the mental image: he was actually supposed to be in her _dressing room_ in front of the mirror, before I changed my mind.**

 **I owed one of the guest reviewers a promise to show Erik shirtless, and I delivered. (To an extent, since I don't know if it was what he/she was expecting.) Um... your welcome?**

 **I will have to take a break from this fan fic for at least a month. The reasons being that I need to have chance to work out certain story parts, and this fic (of all the ones I've been working on) can get super addicting. I also need to focus on school work and other things in my life.**

 **I promise I will get back to this fan fic. I refuse to let this be one of the many fan fics that get stuck in permanent hiatus: if I started it, then I must finish it.**

 **I am curious to see what you guys have to say about the story so far, before I post the next chapter. As always, comments, questions and reviews are appreciated, and I will accept constructive criticism.**


	11. The ballerina and the singer's choices

**SORRY! I failed to keep a promise and I owe you all big time. We all had finals and a bunch of other stuff to deal with, but it's finally here! (and thank you again, whatanauthorsgottado!)**

 **So much had happened. I found a copy of a Phantom of the Opera companion book from the 80's that had a lot in it, including a full script to the ALW musical. (ARGH! If I was in that musical, I'd have that thing memorized within three days!)**

 **It was probably for the best that this chapter was delayed, due to the tragedy that happened in Paris in November, and this chapter has a flashback that would have made the timing inappropriate. Still, I was inspired to give some support and love to the city near the end of the chapter. Paris is the setting of some great stories and movies, and Phantom of the Opera is certainly no exception. I will never give up a hope that one day I can visit this city and see all that inspires us, even after all that it has endured.**

* * *

 **Chapter 11: The ballerina and the singer's choices**

Meg figured that this had to be the fourth or fifth time that either she or Christine had gone off without telling anyone, but she was hopeful that it would be the very last time. As amusing as it was, both girls had gotten into too much trouble through their sudden disappearances, and her mother's punishments were growing worse with each passing incident.

It was the day after Meg had overheard the conversation between her mother and the stranger, and she wanted to seek out answers. She had committed what the stranger said to memory before she left the Opera House.

She was certain that she wouldn't be followed to the flat on Rue Scribe- after all, Christine would be busy with last minute rehearsals for tonight and Erik would want to focus entirely on helping her, rather than keeping an eye on Meg.

As Meg searched for the flat, her mind went back to a happier time from almost a year ago.

* * *

 _Both girls were standing in the dressing room and dressed in layers of clothing that, while ideal for winter, was not so much for the weather outside the building they were in. Both nervously looked at Erik, who guessed the reason for their uneasiness._

" _I can assure you that it will not be as complicated or as spectacular as you imagine it to be. It will be similar to when you blink for just a second."_

" _You promise that you will get us back on time?" Meg asked._

" _Considering the time difference between countries, that depends on how long you spend your time in the city."_

" _Alright then." Meg glanced to Christine as her grip Christine's hand tightened. In turn, the brunette handed the bottle over to Meg._

" _I can't believe this is happening." Meg shook her head."I-"_

" _Choose your words carefully, or else it won't work out the way you want it to."_

" _Alright, hang on a moment." Meg closed her eyes and thought over how she could phrase her words, before she opened them again._

" _I wish... for you to take Christine and me to Moscow in Russia, in a location where no one will see us appear- preferably in an alley. Once we are done, you will send us right back to the Opera House."_

" _As you wish," Erik said, but there was a hint of mischievousness in his tone that concerned the girls._

 _Everything turned black and there was a rush of wind that hit against the girls. Meg immediately wrapped her arms around Christine and held on for dear life, while the other girl repeated the same gesture._

 _And then, before either of them knew it, the air turned cold and the sound of a busy street greeted their ears._

 _Meg and Christine let go and found themselves in an alleyway, and they could see people passing by on the street that was not too far away from them as they spoke in a language that neither of them could understand._

 _WIthout even thinking twice, the ballerina grabbed the soprano's hand and pulled her out of the alleyway and into the street where they were in a city that was completely unfamiliar, but Meg recognized the cathedral in the distance- a cathedral with whimsical, colorful domes that reminded her of story book illustrations and sweets._

" _St. Basil's Cathedral!" Meg let out a breathless laugh and her eyes sparkled in delight. She quickly stuck the bottle in her bag, before she turned to grab Christine's other hand and forced her to spin in a circle with her. "We're actually here!" She laughed._

 _It was hard not to get caught up in Meg's delight, and Christine joined in with her own laughter, while the citizens turned in confusion as the two young ladies held onto each other and spun around like two little girls a play._

 _Meg let out another squeal of delight and hugged Christine, while the world continued to spin around for her in her giddy state of mind. "I can't believe this is actually happening! We're more than a thousand miles away from Paris, and no one knows it!"_

" _I know!" Christine laughed. "And we get this day all to ourselves!"_

 _Meg stumbled a little as she let go of Christine. "Come on!" She pulled at her friend's hand. "Let's visit the cathedral, before we head to the Bolshoi Theater! We have so much to do in such little time!"_

" _Wait." The girls glanced back to see the one responsible for this trip- like them, he was dressed for the weather, but he concealed most of his face with a strange black hat with a wide brim that was angled so that it would hide the masked side, while a scarf covered the lower half of his face._

" _Are you staying in sight?" Christine asked in delight._

" _I do not trust you to be out on your own without someone to watch over the both of you," he explained. "There is no telling what could happen, and I'd rather that nothing should happen to either of you."_

" _Then let's keep going!" Meg forced herself out of Erik's grasp and continued to lead Christine to the cathedral, while their guardian followed behind. "Ah, wait!" She let go off Christine and without any warning practically threw herself onto Erik, wrapped her arms around him and drew him into a tight embrace. "Thank you so much!" She laughed._

 _Erik remained frozen to the spot and looked as if he didn't know how to react, since he was not used to that much affection through a physical contact. It had been one thing when it was Christine, but Meg's embrace felt as if she would squeeze the life out of him._

" _Mademoiselle Meg," he tried to tell her as his arms remained awkwardly hanging away from his body and the ballerina wrapped around him "as much as I appreciate your gratitude, I'm-"_

 _Meg laughed and let out a "Sorry" as she let go of him._

* * *

It was such a wonderful day, Meg recalled. The cathedral was marvelous, and the sights were incredible, but nothing compared to the Bolshoi Theater where they watched _Swan Lake_. Meg was enchanted by the story and the dancing, and the music of Tchaikovsky was pleasing to listen to- she was pleased that she wanted to do something that everyone else could enjoy (with some criticism on a certain someone's part in regards to the dancing and the way the music was performed). She desired to one day dance in _Swan Lake_ as Odette, but she doubted that it would ever reach the shores of France before she was past her prime.

It took a while, but Meg finally found the flat with the red stone wall. She had an hour and a half before her mother would possibly show up to this same location so she had to try and be fast, if it was possible.

Meg walked up to the door and knocked on it. Seconds later, a dark skinned man who appeared to be in his late twenties answered the door and gave her a confused look.

"You're-" Meg struggled to remember "-Darius, correct? I am Meg Giry- daughter of Antoinette Giry."

The man stared at her for a moment, before he pulled away from the door and called out to someone in an unfamiliar language and turned back to Meg when he was done. "Come in Mademoiselle." He moved away and allowed Meg into the flat. He led her into a small parlor filled with little furniture- just a small book case, a few chairs, a table, and a few trinkets on the mantle of the fireplace.

At that moment, another voice called out in the unfamiliar tongue, while Darius led Meg to a chair. "Wait here," he commanded, before heading through an opened door.

Meg rested her head against a fist in thought. Who was the owner of this house, and what exactly could he tell her?

She didn't have to wait long as an older man who shared the same ethnicity as Darius came in. One very noteworthy feature was his jade colored eyes, which were looking at her in a guarded manner as she stood up- they almost reminded her of Erik's own unusual yellow colored eyes.

"I am Meg Giry- daughter of Antoinette Giry," she began. "I would not be here, but I overheard you talking with my mother yesterday, and I have questions that I hope you can answer."

"Are you being followed?" the man asked.

"No," Meg answered. "I have made it a habit to check my bag, and the person you are probably thinking of has no reason to follow me today. I can assure you that he is still at the Opera House."

"So you know why you are here." The man moved to sit and turned his chair so he could face the ballerina.

"Who exactly are you, and how do you know my mother?"

"I am known to some as simply the Persian. In my country, I was 'Daroga'- the chief of police- but my name is Nadir Khan. I know your mother through a certain friend that we have in common that you know very well."

Meg clasped her hands together. She was worried about what was going to happen next, but she had to continue. "I saw the music box and the note inside-"

"I gave that music box to your mother, along with the note, in case anything happened to _him_." Nadir clarified. "Your father was Erik's master for almost a full year, and he was well acquainted with Jules and Antoinette. In fact, it was the very year of the Franco-Prussian War."

Meg stared in shock. She remembered the war, but she was certain that she never saw Erik during that time. "They never told me- I would have seen him!"

"Unless it was decided otherwise," Nadir suggested. "I suspect that they didn't want you to be tempted by what Erik could do for you when you were still a child."

"If mother is coming, then I don't have much time- I need to know what is going on. You implied that Erik is dangerous to both me and Christine, and I want to know why. And I want to know why my father's death plays a big part in all of this," She added, remembering her father- her wonderful, hard working father.

"Before we begin, I need to know how you met Erik and how many wishes he has granted between the two of you."

Meg, recounted as much as she could. It pained her to break the promise she made, but she thought of Christine and her mother, and why she was doing this, and kept going. Even when Darius offered them tea, she refused to stop until she concluded with Christine's night of success.

For some peculiar reason Nadir groaned with what sounded like a cross of annoyance and despair and ran a hand over his face.

"What's wrong?" Meg asked in confusion.

Nadir raised his head up a moment later and looked at Meg. "I am genuinely amazed that you were able to keep Erik in your command for that long. Granted, I was sure it was because of the willpower you share with your friend in resisting the temptations he offered you, but I'm afraid that it might have done more harm than good. You see, it is one thing for Erik to allow himself to be in servitude to someone for more than a year, but it's another if that someone would interest him that much- especially if it is someone who shares the same love for music like your friend does."

"Well, it's not a surprise really." Meg couldn't help but giggle, before she grew serious. "Now you must tell me why I should be concerned."

"First off, a question- has he asked for anything in particular, in return for his services?"

"Well, I know Christine promised to grant him a wish that he desires, along with his freedom. It hasn't happened yet, but I know it will be soon." Meg recalled. "Why do you ask?"

"Neither of you should grant him any wish that he asks for Mademoiselle Giry." Nadir cautioned. "There is a reason the three rules were forced upon him. You may think you have a powerful ally at your command, but believe me when I say that he can be more dangerous without magic. If you grant his wish, you will release a monster capable of doing whatever he wants, without any restraint, and once he puts his mind to something, there is no stopping him."

Meg felt a chill at his words and she stared at Nadir in confusion.

Nadir glanced at the clock and frowned. "I'm afraid that the only way I can best explain this is to tell you what happened to your father, since we're getting too short on time for me to tell you everything." He turned back to Meg and began his tale.

"Erik has little trust in anyone. The only known exception that I am aware of was your parents. You see, Erik was trying to escape from my country and was able to trick someone into bringing him into France. He encountered your father in Rouen, before he brought him to Paris."

"I remember my mother telling me about how my father met a man who was fascinated with architecture and music, and how he had much to share on those subjects. So much that you could barely keep my father from going to bed to get the rest he needed in order to work the next morning." Meg smiled a little. "She joked that they knew a real modern day Renaissance man."

"From what Erik told me, your parents were charming and wiser than most other people that he knew of." Nadir smiled. "He said that Jules was a wonderful man who was devoted to his family, and he envied him for his blessings. In fact, I could have sworn that he told me that Jules was not only hoping that the two of you would be able to meet in person, but he also requested that Erik would make sure that you would have security in your future before you could be married or acquire a trade or profession, in the event that something would happen to your parents."

"But what happened? If Erik was fond of my parents, why didn't he stay with them?"

"Your parents promised to use their last wish to free Erik, if they were willing to sacrifice a wish to grant the one thing he desired most. Unfortunately, when they found out how terrible..." Nadir hesitated for a moment. "When they found out what it was, Erik did not take their reaction very well, and it created a horrible misunderstanding. I think if Erik stayed calm about the whole matter, then... well, we wouldn't have had this conversation."

"What exactly does Erik wish for?" Meg was more interested than ever at this odd secret.

"I'm afraid that if he hasn't told you or Christine, than it is not in my place to tell you." Nadir apologized. "For now, we must continue.

As you know, your father assisted in the construction of the Opera, which was put to a halt when the Franco-Prussian war came right to Paris. Jules was still at the site when it erupted, and while it was was being used to house prisoners in the cellars, he found something that would cost him his life."

* * *

 _Someone had shot at him not that long ago and though he was only hit in the shoulder, it still hurt like hell. He tried to run away, but then he found a secret passage in the Opera House by accident, which led to this hole that he fell down into, like in the book he read to his girls to about the girl who fell down a rabbit hole and into a land of pure nonsense._

 _To make matters more 'pleasant,' he was in pitch black darkness._

" _Damn it to hell!" Jules cursed as he held onto his shoulder in pain. He could feel the blood that managed to escape from the wound, and it was only a matter of time before it could get infected or worse pass out from blood loss._

" _Jules?"_

 _The voice in the darkness was so unexpected that the man let out a surprised yelp and let out a curse that would have earned him a slap from his wife._

" _I certainly wasn't expecting you of all people to come down here," the voice rang out. "But considering what is happening outside these walls, I suppose I should have seen this coming."_

 _And that was when Jules saw them- two yellow orbs glowing in the darkness._

 _For one moment, Jules felt a fear for his own life and almost entirely forgot about his family as his eyes were locked with the yellow orbs._

 _A light came into existence and Jules found himself in a room where his own reflection was shown at every angle, but his gaze was where the yellow orbs had vanished, only to be replaced by a set of familiar yellow eyes belonging to a familiar man in a mask._

 _The jinn held a great flame in one hand, and the shadows that were formed by the ever permanent scowl of the mask made him look sinister._

" _You have a lot of nerve to enter Erik's hiding place, while there's a war going on." Erik said in a cold manner. "You should be back with your wife and children, where they need you."_

" _Erik?" Jules hissed through his teeth as he grabbed his shoulder. His blood was steadily flowing out, but not enough that the wound would turn fatal just yet. "What are you doing here? Where the_ hell _are we?!"_

" _I've been hiding myself from the world, of course." Erik replied. "After how badly things went the last time we saw each other face to face-" he gave Jules a knowing, bitter smile, "-I decided that I would make myself a permanent residence here, since I can't even trust those who had showed me kindness."_

" _What are you saying?" Jules eyes narrowed._

" _Behold the chamber in which I will hide my prison from the rest of the world." Erik gestured to the room around them. "I will hide myself in a place that suits my liking, while those who dare try to find me, or even find this room, will meet a horrible fate. There will be no escaping, and none will hear their cries of help- they will be alone with only themselves for company." He glanced to the mirror. "Ironically, the very same torture that I've endured for as long as you could barely begin to comprehend."_

 _Jules stared in shock._

" _You can't do that Erik," he finally said when he regained his senses._

" _But I've already done it- thanks to you, I found a place that suits me. I admit, coming along with you and exploring what will soon be a palace of opulence has been enjoyable, and it ended up being more beneficial to me than I realized."_

" _I can't let you do this!" Jules snapped as he forced himself to stand. "This is supposed to be a safe haven, where people will be able to make a livelihood- where dreams can come true! And you're going to turn it into your own personal dungeon and take it out on all of us!"_

" _Oh yes- all of ignorant humanity should be allowed to live out their lives, while I have to hide in their shadows!"_

" _There are a lot of people who could never understand what you go through, but that doesn't mean that they are all the same! I let you into my home and treated you as I wanted to treat those who deserve kindness!"_

" _Maybe you should have kept that in mind when I warned you and Antoinette about this!" Erik growled as he pointed to his mask. "But no- you had to recoil in fear, like the rest of them!"_

" _You can't expect someone to not be taken surprise by what they aren't used to! I'm sorry I reacted the way I did, but you can't expect to be the only one who's suffered as you've done- in fact, you have been more fortunate than others, and I see no reason why you should regard yourself to be alone in your suffering! But_ this _is how you take it out on us?! These actions don't justify your pain, Erik- they turn you into the monster they think you are!"_

" _So you see me as a monster?" Erik's eyes narrowed. "You know, I had hopes for you Jules. I wanted to believe that you weren't like other men, but you are no better than they are."_

 _Jules noticed the bottle laying in a corner between two of the mirrors. Realizing what he had to do, he quickly got up on his feet and he forced himself towards it._

 _Erik, however, had noticed everything and he knew what Jules was about to do. He quickly dropped the fire, took out a long cord like rope from one of the sleeves of his robes and, with a skillful aim, sent the loop end flying out towards Jules' neck and pulled at the rope when the loop found its mark._

 _Jules let out a strangled cry as he felt himself be pulled back, but he still forced his feet against the ground and stay in place. He could feel Erik coming closer to him with each tug as he tried to bring him closer, but Jules was not going to give in._

 _He finally forced himself onto the ground and when his shoulder collided against the floor, he had to fight the urge to cry out in pain. He crawled towards the bottle, but with one hand holding onto the rope to keep him from chocking was slowing him down, and the other attached to a wounded shoulder, he couldn't get far, and Erik was slowly coming up from behind._

 _God- he couldn't breathe!_

" _S-stop!" he choked. "Erik, I can't breathe!"_

" _I don't want to do this Jules," Erik hissed. "I really don't, but you leave me no choice."_

 _The victim's hand finally grabbed the neck of the bottle, just as the rope tightened and he felt the jinn kneeling over him._

 _In a blind state, Jules thought of his wife- she would never know what happened, and he would never see her or his daughters ever again. Despite his better judgement, despite that he was slowly loosing air, Jules cried out:_

" _I wish to see my wife one last time!"_

 _Everything became dark and Erik- who was caught off guard by Jules' wish- cursed and accidentally pulled at the rope with a force stronger than what he meant to use. He glanced up in alarm, but he was forced to shut his eyes when everything turned bright, and he could hear a woman screaming._

 _Slowly he opened his eyes to find himself in a familiar bedroom. It was still daylight, but he could hear chaos erupting outside the window from the war that he had tried to avoid. In this room, with a blanket and a few other provisions laying at her feet, was the wife of the very man that he was strangling to death._

" _What are you doing?!" Antoinette howled as she forced Erik off Jules. The jinn made no resistance as the former ballerina hurried to Jules' aid and pulled the loop off her husband's neck. "Jules?!" she pleaded as she held her husband's now blue face in her hands. "Jules speak to me!"_

 _Jules didn't stir._

" _Jules?!" Antoinette tried to listen for Jules's heartbeat in his chest, and even held a hand to his mouth and nose, but there was no air. Her husband's neck had snapped the moment after he made his wish by Erik's final pull of the deadly lasso._

 _What words could describe the loss of one's significant other? Antoinette could only stare at her husband as emotions ran through her. Never again would he smile, hold her, or hug his daughters close to him, for no dragon could cherish his dearest treasures as much as Jules did._

 _Erik realized what he had done and for the first time in what felt like eons, he was horrified. He had taken the life of one of the few people he could respect or regard as a friend, and he created a widow out of the woman before him._

 _Antoinette looked at Erik, and the sheer anger in her eyes almost scared him._

" _Get. Out." She spoke in a low, forced tone as her hands trembled. "Get out of my family's life... and never come back."_

" _Antoinette," Erik found himself trying to apologize, even though he knew he could not fix this mistake. "I was being too rash, I-"_

" _GET OUT!" The new widow shrieked with a voice that cracked from the misuse that would strain her throat, but it was also an almost inhuman screech, as if she were about to turn into a banshee that would chase after her husband's killer to the ends of the earth. She grabbed the bottle. "GO BACK TO WHERE YOU CAME FROM AND LEAVE US!"_

 _And just like that, Antoinette got her wish- both Erik and the bottle vanished in an instant, as if they were never there to begin with._

 _But now she was entirely alone- alone with the corpse of her husband._

 _Finally she broke down and held her husband 's body close to her; she sobbed into his chest as one hand tightened around the strawberry blonde hair that he shared with Meg and other held him as tightly as she could._

" _Jules," she sobbed. "Oh God, Jules."_

* * *

"Erik was sent back to me, and when he told me what happened, I had to act." Nadir finished. "Erik already couldn't use magic to grant his own personal wishes, but I was the one who had to set the three rules against him: the dead cannot be brought back to life, one cannot be forced into falling in love against their will, but most importantly, he cannot kill someone ever again. Unfortunately, he proved that even with those restraints he is still a danger to others."

"Then why did he come back to Paris?" Meg finally asked. "If all you say is true, then why would he send that music box to my mother?"

Nadir's face darkened. "There are many people in my country who have used him to accomplish horrendous acts- the worst of which had occurred long before he met your family and some were even worse than the death of your father. It had been my duty to keep an eye on him, and though I did not want to lose track of him again, I knew that Darius and I had to send him out of the country before the deeds could go too far.

He wanted me to take him to Antoinette- perhaps to apologize- but he insisted on taking a secret entrance to the Opera House that you can find on this very street. I suspected that he was up to something, and the very moment we entered the cellars, I put a seal on the bottle to keep him locked away and keep him quiet." Nadir let out a slightly amused chuckle. "I managed to shut him up- I can only imagine how furious that made him." He became serious again.

"However, a member of the Opera House caught me, and in my struggle I lost the bottle and believed that I had destroyed it. In the end I was able to give your mother the music box and a note that Erik wrote, in case something would happen to him- whether it was to give her closure or to apologize, I'll never know. Believing that I was no longer bound to watching over Erik, I decided to leave Paris and my country behind me."

"And that was when Christine and I found the bottle in the fifth cellar," Meg quietly concluded as she got up off her chair and walked out to stare out the window while she tried to put together everything she had learned.

"I truly want to believe that you and your friend have changed Erik for the better," Nadir told Meg. "I want to believe that all that time spent with the both of you has healed his soul, and that he deserves all that he wishes, but I am not entirely convinced."

"He can get jealous and likes to mess with everyone's heads, but he hasn't done anything as horrible as what you've told me," Meg struggled to assure him. "He doesn't come across as dangerous."

"Think carefully Mademoiselle Giry. Has Erik ever done anything that came across as unusual or even frightening?"

Meg closed her eyes as she tried to think back- some were easier to recall than the others.

The pranking of Carlotta... the fact that he made her sick so Christine could perform... how angry he was when Christine expressed desire to see her childhood friend... and then there was how Erik reacted when Meg had no idea where Christine had gone and his threats towards her.

" _I can easily damage a career as well as I can build it up, without lifting a finger. And it doesn't even have to be by my own hand."_

She _wanted_ to believe that he was just someone who could get prone to jealousy and anger like everyone else, but then she thought about the mirror room and her father again. She didn't know if she wanted to believe that the spirit she and her friend had befriended and who had changed their lives for the better was the same person who killed her father, but everything lined up all too perfectly to say otherwise.

"As I said before, neither you or your friend are safe, but I fear that Mademoiselle Christine will be in greater danger if Erik harbors an affection that goes beyond whatever feelings she has towards him. So this where I will need your help, if you are willing to undertake this task.

If you are convinced that Erik is virtuous- or if you can bring Christine to me and let me hear what she has to say- then I will leave you all alone. However, if Erik has done anything dangerous or has made either of you uncomfortable, then you have to help me do what is right, and save everyone before something horrible occurs."

Meg glanced to the clock- time was growing short. Her mother might come at any moment.

She held her face in her hands as she tried to consider her options- let things continue, or take action. Believe this man and seal Erik away, or let Christine keep her promise.

Either way, someone was going to get hurt in all of this, and there was no telling what the outcome would be.

* * *

Night had fallen and the memory of the supernatural scream from the night before had faded from the minds of the ballerinas and singers of the dormitories.

"Why Christine, you look absolutely lovely!" Lucille smiled as she helped the soprano with her make-up in front of the vanity's mirror, while a handful of girls and young women were huddled close by.

"Thank you Lucille." Christine replied with a blush as the dancer applied enough make up for the singer to stand out, but not too much that she would look ghastly, and selected only what would best match Christine's coloring.

"And now for some rouge." Lucille applied the light red coloring to Christine's lips, before drawing away.

"Christine?" The girl's eyes darted to the mirror to see Jammes holding something in her hands.

"Yes?"

The dancer crossed over and opened her hands to reveal a necklace composed of two strands of pearl like beads and a purple stone set in silver. "I still feel bad for what almost happened with your locket," she explained. "So, would it be alright if I try to make up for it by lending you this?"

Christine shot the girl a reassuring smile. "I've already forgiven you, Jammes- I was partly to blame for not telling you when you first grabbed it."

The ballerina let out a relieved smile as she made her way towards Christine and helped put the necklace around her neck.

"It matches perfectly." Christine quickly gave Jammes a squeeze on her arm before she could draw back. "Thank you for lending this to me."

"You're welcome." Jammes replied as Lucille helped Christine up from her seat.

"And now for the final presentation!" Lucille led Christine to a larger mirror that the girls all shared at the other end of the room.

"You look beautiful!" Angelique beamed.

"Almost like a princess!" Eloise squealed in delight.

Indeed, Christine looked radiant- the jasmine gown fit her just right and the white fabrics of the skirt almost seemed to shimmer from the light in the room. Her hair had not changed so much- some of it was pulled back, while the rest hung loose- and Angelique allowed Christine to borrow her opera gloves.

"You are so lucky!" Angelique sighed. "You have a lovely dress and you get to perform for the creme de la creme of the arts!"

"Surely you must have someone escorting you!" Lucille grinned knowingly. "The men of Paris would be fools if they passed you up for the chance to be in your company!"

"If only." Christine gave the older girl a modest smile as she clasped her hands together and felt the ring hiding under the satin. "Where is Meg?" she asked. "I was hoping she could see me before I had to go."

"Funny you should ask that," Eloise piped up. "I don't think we've seen much of her today."

"Enough!" Lucille declared. "I'm sure Daae's brougham is ready, and we can't keep the driver waiting."

"I'll hurry." Christine laughed as she went to her bed to put a dark blue cloak on to protect herself against the cold. She went to grab her sheet music, but she carefully went to her box and stuck the bottle in a secret pocket inside the folds of her dress, before she stood back up, only to be pulled by the arms by an eager Angelique, who lead her out of the dorm room as a trail of excited girls followed behind.

"You are going to have to tell us everything when you get back!" Violette pleaded. "You must tell us who you get to perform for!"

"Yes, and how many handsome and wealthy men there are!" Helene grinned. "Some of us are still looking for a suitor!"

"And you have to tell us what Madame DuBois' home looks like!" Eloise pleaded.

"And if the wine and food is any good!" Angelique cracked a grin at Christine. "I want to know what to sneak back into the Opera when Madame Giry isn't look-!"

"Shush!" Lucille slapped a free hand over Angelique's mouth as Madame Giry approached the group of girls. She gave them an amused look, before glancing to Christine.

"Well, I suppose there is no need for me to escort you out," she began. "However, I expect you to be on your best behavior, since you are reflecting not only the Opera, but yourself as an artist."

"I will," Christine promised.

"And you promise to come back as soon as the event is over?"

"Yes, Madame."

The woman gave Christine a hopeful smile. "I know I am being overbearing- it's just that I worry about what happens outside these walls at night, and if anything happened to you, I don't know what I would do."

"She's a good girl, Madame!" Violette reassured Madame Giry. "She sticks to the rules and she watches out for herself!"

"I wish for the best tonight." Madame Giry moved to the side to allow Christine to leave. "I know you will be wonderful, and you look beautiful for this evening."

"Thank you." Christine smiled one more time, before the girls swept her away and lead her down the hall and they didn't stop until they made it outside. The night air had a slight chill, but the sky was clear and full of stars with the moon at a perfect waxing crescent.

"There it is!" Angelique hurried to the brougham that was waiting at the steps of the Opera House. She had helped Madame Giry to arrange the brougham for Christine, and she quickly paid the driver for his troubles as the girls walked to the vehicle.

"Well, this is it!" Lucille grinned as Christine reached the brougham. "We wish you the best for tonight!"

Angelique went to the door of the brougham and opened it for Christine as the rest of the girls offered their fondest wishes, though Christine couldn't help but frown over the fact that Meg wasn't among them. Meg knew how important this was to her friend, and she had wanted to see Christine wear her dress, so where was she?

"You better get going," Angelique knew why Christine was hesitating. "I'm sure Meg will see you when you come back."

"You're right." Christine nodded and turned back to the brougham. She accepted Angelique's hand as she helped her get onto the step and into the brougham.

"Have fun!" Angelique encouraged as Christine sat down on the seat, before she closed the door for her. The girls backed away from the brougham and waved one last time to the soprano, before the driver made the horses go and head towards Christine's destination.

When she could no longer see the girls, Christine pulled the curtains of the front window down, before she sat back into the seat and held her music to her chest. The moment was coming at hand- she was going to be just in time when she would reach the chateau, but there would still be some time before she could begin to perform on her own in front of an audience.

It was still nerve wracking as when she had to do it the first time.

"You are very fortunate that all those young women support you."

She could sense that he was sitting on her left, and she could hear him close the curtains on his side of the brougham.

"They're all like family to me," she replied. "It took a while to open up to them, and we've all had our moments, but I've lived with them for so long that they are almost like my sisters. I wish Meg was with them, but Angelique is right- I'll see her afterwards."

She finally turned to face Erik. Much like at her debut in Hannibal, he wore appropriate evening wear, but his vest was a dark, almost midnight shade of blue.

"It is quite a shame that she wasn't there," he agreed. "After all, this will be the night that you will gain the favor of the patrons of the arts and those who had not witnessed your triumph in the opera, as well as their support in furthering your career. If all goes as I hope it will, you will not have to be in the chorus or serve as Carlotta's understudy ever again."

Christine had no idea how to respond to those strong words of faith and instead glanced out of her window.

"Paris is beautiful at night," she managed to say as she observed the outside world. "I haven't been able to actually go into the city at night that often ever since I came to the Opera House, but it can be beautiful, if you try to see it in the right light."

Christine opened the window and stuck her head out to examine Paris in its splendor under the night sky. There weren't too many people out and about at night, and the glow from the lights, both outside on the streets and within the buildings, gave the city an inviting atmosphere. She glanced up to the sky and took in a deep breath- Paris may not have been Sweden, but it was dear to her, for all it represented. It had seen its share of horrors, and she had a few painful memories here, but the city still survived and she knew she would always be thankful for all that it gave her.

After a while, the brougham finally made a turn and they began to pass through the Tuileries Gardens. Christine and her fellow performers would sometimes pass through them in the day time, but she wanted to know what it would be like to just ride a carriage through them during the night.

"One of these nights, I'll ride a carriage in the Tuileries," she told her companion as she observed the Gardens. "Perhaps you'll like to join me?"

There was no response.

She almost called for him, but then she remembered that the driver might hear her and kept silent. What she didn't realize was that Erik had been watching her with a thoughtful look in his eyes the whole time she was observing Paris.

"Never mind." She pulled back in and shut the window. "I was just having a wishful thought." She took out her sheet music and was about to give it one final glance over, when Erik finally spoke and took something out of his pocket.

"How much would you like to have me by your side tonight?"

She glanced around and saw that he carried a small vial with a dark liquid in between his fingers. "What is that?" she asked him.

"Something that I can't believe that I hadn't considered much sooner." Erik gave the vial a quick glance. He could not change his physical appearance, but he hadn't considered the possibility of changing the appearance of the mask to make him passable as a normal looking person, or at least match the only parts of his face that didn't bear his flaws.

The best and almost unbelievable part was that it actually worked. Granted, there was a time limit to the charm, but he was able to trick a few costumers into thinking he was just an idle nobleman trying to pass time with one of the ballerinas.

He didn't try to see what he looked like- he was too afraid that the moment he saw what the mask looked like, then the illusion would shatter, or he would be so overwhelmed by what he saw, that he might lose his sanity. The only thing that he was aware of was that the mask did have a more natural toned coloring, and it felt like it was shaped differently against his face.

"If I use this, I will be taking a serious risk on your behalf," Erik told her. "It will create an illusion- everyone will see what I want them to see, but you will be the only one to see through it. They will see the face of your tutor, but each dose will only last for an hour and to make matters more complicated, I will be using my real name and not a made up identity, so that puts my safety at risk."

For some reason he couldn't understand, he didn't want to deceive her with this charm. Was it because he was tired of keeping too many secrets? He wondered this when he took a strand of hair from her brush, but perhaps he didn't want her to think that she was seeing his true face, or the face of another person, even if the mask was just another oddity to her.

"Then why would you be willing to do this?" Christine was confused.

"Because in the event that you repay me after this night, I will never have to hide ever again," he confessed. "I will not be able to be under another's control, and I can have a normal life like everyone else. I am willing to take these risks tonight, because not only have you asked this of me, but because I am tired of trying to hide my face so that the world can never find me. I want to be able to experience what it is like to be normal, without having to hide anymore."

"You don't have to hide all the time," Christine suggested. "I mean, father told me to make the most out of what is within your control and I know that sometimes you have to just face what you fear and put yourself out- after all, you taught me that through your teachings."

Erik carefully thought over her words. "So I have." He realized the truth and the irony of it all, before he held the vial up again.

"So what will you choose Christine? Do you want me to try to be a part of the world that you've known, or should I stay hidden for just one more night?"

* * *

 **I really wanted the other girls to meet Erik, but everything was telling me no- that it goes against his character at that point, and too many consequences would come out of it, so sadly I had to drop it.**

 **Though it would have involved all the girls being in total awe at him. Maybe they'll get a chance to meet him- who knows.**

 **Will Meg betray her friends, or will she let them do as they please? Does Madame Giry have a clue as to what is going on behind her back? Will the night go smoothly, or will disaster hit? Will Christine end up becoming a Mary Sue because it seems everyone loves her? Will I stop asking stupid questions and leave you alone?**

 **I don't know when the next chapter will be posted, but stay tuned for it. I guarantee that it's going to be a good one.**


	12. The night at the chateau

I apologize for the wait- I haven't heard back from my beta in awhile and I took it upon myself to carefully look over this chapter. (If you are reading this, I apologize for doing this.) If there is anything I miss, I'll try to go back and fix it.

This chapter was loosely inspired by something mentioned in the book: Christine performed privately for someone during the events of the book, but because it appeared that the person in question existed in real life, I had to make an OC instead, as I know too little about her.

 **draegon-fire: The Madame does suspect Christine is as involved with Erik as much as Meg is, but her problem is that she can't do anything about that. To even talk about that possibility with the girls might as well be the same as speaking to Erik.**

The Laughing song belongs to Johann Strauss II and lyrics are presented in English. The same is said for the Jewel Song, which belongs to Charles Gounod (if the lyrics don't belong to him, then the owner gets the credit. Translations found on aria-database).

Um... and then there should be a really familiar line that belongs to an Opera version of Romeo and Juliet and it's composer too.

* * *

 **Chapter 12: The night at the chateau**

Christine remembered a few things from what she knew of Lady DuBois- one was that she liked to gather all sorts of artists and connoisseurs to perform at her chateau, which was rather beautiful on both the inside and outside.

She was in the main hall where the warmth of the house was a welcome (she had her cloak taken by a servant.). Already there were a number of guests inside the ballroom- some of whom she already recognized- and a small part of her wanted to turn back and run when she recalled that she had to perform for them. She held onto her sheet music and her invitation to her chest for dear life, while her free hand was resting on Erik's arm.

"Good evening, Mademoiselle." Christine turned to see one of the servants standing by in the main hall address her with a kind smile. "May I see your invitation?"

"Oh, of course." Christine stammered as she let go of Erik and handed the invitation to the servant, who gave it a quick glance to confirm it's authenticity.

"The honorable Lady DuBois has been expecting you." He informed the singer. "She's in the ballroom and would like to visit you." He handed the letter to another servant who quickly proceeded to seek out his employer.

"I feel like I have the corps de ballet dancing around in my stomach." Christine whispered as she resumed the position of her hand on Erik's arm. She glanced up at him and could immediately sense that he was extremely uncomfortable. His whole body looked ridged and she felt that his arm was stiff around her own. His eyes were darting around as if he was on the lookout for anything that would catch him off guard.

She immediately regretted allowing him to do this to himself.

Still, Erik was able to lead her out of the hall and into the ballroom where many guests were already interacting with each other or were helping themselves to refreshments. Across the room was a grand piano and a set of chairs and music stands, where a few musicians were already warming up their instruments. Christine took in the beauty of the ballroom and how it seemed to give of a warm atmosphere; there were paintings lined on one side of the room and on the other side there were windows that showed the stone balconies and the side gardens outside the chateau.

"May I have the honor to present to Lady Adeline DuBois?"

Christine and Erik turned to face the servant who went to seek out the woman in question and he moved aside to reveal an elderly woman who was dressed in elegant dark colors and a simple necklace with an emerald set in gold around her neck. While she carried an air of friendless, there was something awfully familiar about her and it wasn't until she spoke that Christine realized why.

"The singer in the cafe who performed the greatest rendition of Cherubino's song that I've ever heard in a long time." Lady DuBois gave the singer a fond smile. "I was pleased to learn that you were a performer at the Opera and I knew I had to have you here tonight when I heard you sing as Elissa."

Christine let go of Erik again and respectfully curtseyed to Lady DuBois. "I didn't realize who you were or that you have heard me sing before," She apologized "but I'm honored to sing for you and your guests."

"Your voice has improved with much remarkable beauty since I last heard you sing." The Lady continued. "I am surprised that you have made everyone think that you are a mezzo, when you have proven otherwise."

"She has been known to sing soprano when she is needed." Monsieur Reyer of all people suddenly appeared by Lady DuBois's side. "But thank God that she was there when we needed her the most. I'm having her be La Carlotta's understudy for the time being, even though the diva herself isn't aware of it."

"M-monsieur Reyer?" Christine stammered. "What are you doing here?"

"I happen to be an old friend of Adeline." The conductor smiled at the older woman. "An old friend of twenty years, you might say." He gave Christine a curious glance. "Though speaking of you, I would like to know why you have been keeping your progress a secret. I've never heard you show that much range or that much passion in your singing before your debut performance."

"Well, I-" Christine let out a nervous laugh as she fought the urge to look at Erik "-I suppose there was a good reason or two for that."

Reyer wasn't satisfied by this answer while Lady DuBois noticed Christine's companion. "I take it that this is your chaperone for the evening?" She inquired. "Or perhaps you're her husband?"

"As a matter of fact, I am her tutor." Erik finally said- perhaps the very first thing he ever said after getting out of the brougham. He still sounded somewhat tense.

"So you're the one who helped Mademoiselle Daae improve her singing abilities." Lady Dubois grinned as she held her hand out. "It's quite an honor to meet you, Monsieur-?"

"Destler." He responded as he accepted the hostess's hand in greeting, before withdrawing it. "Erik Destler."

"Well thank God you were around when we needed you. It's very rare to find real talent nowadays."

"I would have to agree with you." He confessed. "I've only managed to seen a few promising individuals ever since I began to support Mademoiselle Daae."

"I don't think I've ever heard of your name before." Reyer was now interested in the mysterious guest. "Are you one who prefers to keep a low profile, or have I been stuck at the Garnier for too long?"

Seeing an opportunity to ease the situation for Erik, Christine jumped in. "He is a wonderful musician and composer- you should have to hear him play if you are ever fortunate for the opportunity, Monsieur Reyer." As Erik shot her a look of alarm, she continued on. "He has heard many of the operas that have been performed here and I think he favors your work, if my memory is correct- is that right?" She turned to Erik to make sure she understood this correctly. To her good luck, Erik finally eased up and glanced back to the conductor.

"I think my student is getting too ahead of herself, but I appreciate all you have put into your work." Erik admitted. "I've heard that you are very dedicated and intolerant of unprofessional behavior. I've never had the fortune of conducting- and I highly doubt that I have the patience to work with so many musicians at once- but you have done an impressive achievement of bringing the scores of all those operas to life."

The conductor gave Erik a relieved smile. "You have no idea how hard it has been. Some of those men have made me want to tear my hair out and I can't count how many nightmares I've had over some pieces. _Hannibal_ itself has had a case where it seems everyone will go in the wrong tempo without being quick minded and precise enough to make it work."

"I believe I had caught note of that, the last time I watched the performance. Personally, if it were me, I would-"

"I think I shall take Mademoiselle Daae to the piano end of the room before the first performance of the night commences." Lady DuBois gave a nod to Christine and gestured for her to follow. The singer only had enough time to shoot Erik an apologetic glance before she slightly doubled her pace to catch up to the hostess. Thankfully it seemed that Erik didn't mind and resumed the conversation with Reyer.

"Once you have Reyer get too into his work, it's hard to get him out of it." DuBois's explained to Christine. "I personally know little about music fundamentals or conducting, and I don't think I'd ever be able to grasp it, even at my age." She then went on to explain. "As you might have seen in the invitation, you are not the only one who will be performing tonight: we have a small orchestra to play for us, my nephew will perform on the piano, Georges the baritone has a few songs to provide, a contralto from Italy will provide a couple of songs, and of course you are the guest soprano for the evening."

"I'm sorry that I wasn't able to have all the songs ready in time." Christine said as they approached the piano and she set her music neatly amongst the other separate folders. "While I would have been honored to perform the Queen of the Night's aria, it would ave taken up the time it took to learn the others." She didn't want to add that she wasn't entirely sure if she was anywhere ready to learn that specific song. Despite Erik's urgings, Christine didn't think she could ever do that song justice. Thankfully she never got around to telling him this when they were trying to figure out which songs to focus on, before sending a letter back to the hostess on what she would perform that evening.

"Oh that's alright my dear." The hostess waved it off. "I knew I was getting too ahead of myself, so it's all my fault. Anyway, I must go but I think there are some guests who you should meet."

Christine had been introduced to and greeted by various guests- all of whom were either well known patrons of the Opera House, musicians and members of orchestras that had been conducted by well known composers, members of high Parisian society and politics, and there was even a few guests who hailed all the way from Austria or Belgium, along with Sophia Costa, the contralto from Italy. A small handful of these guests had heard of Christine or had seen her perform and they were happy to talk with her, and she even saw a few members of the Conservatoire that she used to attend. They had furthered their careers and they were happy to see that she was finally doing well for herself.

A lot of these guests seem to be so well known that Christine felt uncomfortable with knowing that she would directly have to perform for them. She could have sworn that someone mentioned that there was an important politician at the party and she prayed that it was just her mind playing a trick on her.

Finally, after almost thirty minutes from being separated from Erik and a few songs by the group of musicians later, the tutor and the student reunited by one of the ballroom's columns a good distance away from the other guests.

"I'm sorry I left you at the mercy of being on your own with Reyer for company." Christine lightly rested her back against the column. "I could sense that you were uncomfortable earlier, and I ended up getting caught up among Lady DuBois guests."

"Reyer actually provided good company, as well as a good mindset on music itself." Erik reassured her. "I didn't agree with everything he said all the time, but it was enjoyable to finally be able to speak to him face to face. Some of the other guests seemed interesting but I had little desire to speak to most of them."

"I don't think I've ever seen you out in public like this." Christine noticed. "Even then you've never seemed that talkative. The only time you were ever relaxed in such a situation was during the masquerade last year."

"Ah yes," A small smile formed on his mouth as he fondly recalled the event. "I remember that night. I caused quite a stir, didn't I?"

"The Red Death costume and your performance caught everyone off guard." Christine remembered back on that night. "You insisted on having no one touch you and it was even written upon your cape, though Meg and I were the sole exceptions."

"That is because Annabel Lee and the lost Lennore are both already dead and safe from the touch of death."

She remembered their costumes. Meg had been dressed in white, but there were touches of stormy grays and blues in the costume to reflect the sea in the poem and it even had shells and a shiny material made to resemble the scales of a fish adorn her mask. In contrast, Christine had been dressed in black, gray, and parchment yellow and her own black mask had a texture made to resemble raven feathers.

"You know you really did cause Madame Giry a lot of grief; in addition to providing us costumes and masks, you also changed our hair color and advised us to be careful to who we spoke to or else we'd give ourselves away. The only person who almost came close to realizing who Meg and I were was Rosina, and even then she had no idea that it was us."

"In any case," Erik glanced out to the room, where the musicians finished their piece "the masquerade is still a week or so away and I am not the Red Death, nor will you have to share him with Annabel Lee tonight. It is only you I want to dance with, if we are to dance tonight."

Christine felt a heat flare up in her cheeks and looked away as the guests applauded the musicians.

The musicians left their spot and Lady DuBois came up to take a stand by the piano. Christine took her cue and made her way around to get to the piano and listened to DuBois's speech while the corps de ballet hopped around in her stomach.

"And now I am proud to present a new star from the Palais Garnier." She began. "A surprise understudy appeared during the production of _Hannibal_ and though I had heard her sing many times before at my favorite cafe, I had not heard a voice as seraphic as hers." The hostess glanced to Christine with a smile and gestured to her. "Presenting our soprano of the evening, Mademoiselle Christine Daae."

Those who never heard this name gave polite applause, while everyone else was just a bit more enthusiastic.

Christine waited for the hostess to leave, before glancing out to the audience.

 _You can do this, you can do this._ She told herself, while thanking God that The Laughing Song was first. She glanced to the pianist and gave him the nod to indicate that she was ready. _Just let yourself go. At this moment, you are Adele and you are making fun of your employer, who is trying to pass himself off as someone else._

Perhaps this was what made her look at Erik and envisioned him as her own Eisenstein for this song. Only she could see through the deception they were putting on for the guests and she was in on their joke, while playfully mocking him at his expense.

She could feel herself become the overdramatic, yet tactful Adele. She pretended to think highly of herself and then she was able to stop thinking and lose herself in her make believe world.

" _My dear Marquis, you've insulted me, a most impolite thing to do."_ The charming, airy voice gently sang out into the ballroom. _"Though you were unkind, I am too refined to say what I think of you."_

This was her moment to feel a little vain and even playful; being Adele could grant her this.

" _You're amusing, ha, ha, ha, ha. You're delightful, ha, ha, ha, ha. Can't help laughing, ha, ha, ha, ha. Feeling spiteful, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha."_

She continued singing on, even as she got to the finale that once would have tested her range, but now was something she could easily slide up into. The notes went up into one pretty airy high note before she slid back down to produce the final notes, and with the last note, she found herself twirling on one foot and her dress spun with her before she could even stop herself. She had become too lost into being Adele and had far too much fun because of that, which gave way to the gesture of delight.

The audience didn't care and they applauded in joy.

After that song, Christine performed at least two more songs before she was free to give herself a drink of water while she was met with those who wanted to personally congratulate her.

"Was it my eyes playing tricks on me or did you cast me into the role of Eisenstein for the first song?"

Christine turned as she took a sip of water from her glass and only gave Erik an innocent look. "Maybe?"

He let out an amused, light snort as he crossed his arms over his chest.

"I have two more songs to perform in an hour's time." She reminded him after lowering the glass from her mouth. "How much longer can you last being amongst everyone?"

"I have enough doses left to last at least three more hours if I'm careful." Erik took out a time piece that he hid in the beast pocket of his jacket and looked at it. "Speaking of which, I need to take care of that."

"Why not just take it right now? It'll save you the hassle."

"The doses aren't for me to ingest."

He made his way out of the hallway and left Christine at the mercy of more well wishers.

She didn't recall Erik taking any of the contents of that vial. When they first came to the chateau, he even took his time in the brougham before he emerged to escort her.

She didn't bother to think too much about it and had fun being amongst these people who shared similar interests and had amazing stories or interesting anecdotes to tell.

"You are very fortunate to have Monsieur Destler as your teacher." Lady DuBois later complimented the young woman. "He is very unique, but he has given you high praises of your progress when we spoke together."

"He has?" Christine was taken by surprise by this, but then quickly recovered. "It- it's nothing really. I'm sure that if I had been more focused on my studies before meeting him, I would have made better progress."

"I still wonder why he would insist on keeping your voice at a range lower than it should have been when you performed at the cafe." Lady DuBois pondered. "It almost seemed as if you magically gained the voice of a soprano just like that." She snapped her fingers for emphasis.

"But I digress. I could be wrong, but the look in his eyes spoke of something far more than a teacher's pride, if you pardon my intrusion." DuBois gave Christine a meaningful, yet girlish look, as if she were one of the ballerinas who were eager to gossip about their beaus. "I look forward to hearing you sing again tonight."

As Lady DuBois walked away, Christine pondered over her words.

Why didn't Erik just change her into the soprano that she was when she first made her wish? Considering how many years it took for her to get to the point that she was at now, he would have had better things to do than take a risk on wasting time on her.

She thought back on what Lady DuBois said about the look in his eyes when he spoke about her. Why was it that everyone kept assuming that she was in a relationship with Erik?

But there was something that made her nervous- what was Erik's side in all of this? Why did he really care so much about her career and her being here in the first place?

She performed her final two songs without any issues- one of which was Pamina's Lament from _The Magic Flute,_ but it was her rendition of the Jewel Song from _Faust_ that was her greatest triumph of the night.

Christine recalled how much she wanted to bring justice to the role of Marguerite and the significance of this song in the opera. She recalled when she herself looked in the mirror after her first night as Elissa and how she seemed to have changed. She could finally understand Marguerite's enthusiasm in this song.

" _Ah, I laugh to see myself so beautiful in this mirror. Ah, I laugh to see myself so beautiful in this mirror? Is it you, Marguerite, is it you? Answer me, answer me. Respond, respond, respond quickly!"_

To the audience, this was not just a singer, but one who could fit into the role of each song as if she were performing the exact operas for them. This Marguerite was an innocent who seemed to be discovering how beautiful she really was, almost like a girl discovering she had become a woman, and was falling into the seduction of vanity and jewels.

The one member of the audience who was happier than the others over this performance was Erik. Here before him was the Galatea he helped uncover from the stone and shaped into perfection. Here was an artist who not only had a crystal clear quality in her voice, but understood what it meant to put on the mask of the role she was playing and had the courage to step out and do it, despite how terrifying it was to do so. He could see the performer, but he was also seeing Marguerite and could not tell the two apart. He could see that Christine was having fun and it made him smile.

The audience's final applauses to the new soprano were loud and wonderful to Christine when she concluded the song and modestly bowed before them. She returned to the sides and when she passed Lady DuBois, who made her way to the piano, she was given a very thankful, but also very pleased smile.

"And now for the dance!" Lady DuBois spoke out as the musicians resumed their position behind her. "I believe we all would like to have a little of it and be lively after enjoying our guest performers and having our conversations."

Most of the guests were very eager to join in the center of the hard wood floor, while the rest were content to stay still and watch. Gradually they found companions to dance with and began to join together as the musicians prepared themselves.

"I believe you owe me a dance." Erik's voice meet Christine's ears and she turned to accept his waiting arm. They joined the other guests and they found a suitable spot to have to themselves. Christine's hand was joined Erik's, while the other was pressed to his back, and her partner held his free hand around her waist.

And then the music began to play out and the dancers began to dance.

It felt as if everyone knew how to dance in time to the song that was playing. It wasn't fast paced, nor was it too slow, but it was at an ideal tempo. Even then it was possible to get lost in their own world with their partner as the music played on.

It was there that Christine felt alive. Life had no meaning when performing and it was the same with dancing. To be lost to others with only one person to move with as if they were a part of you was as freeing as it felt intimate.

But when her eyes were locked onto a pair of golden orbs staring back at her with such intensity, it felt like there was so much more happening at once.

Moments passed as they became lost in the dance- holding on and spinning without a care in the world, and occasionally meeting each other's eyes and wondering what was going on through the other's head.

"I still can't believe I'm dancing with you in front of everyone else." Erik confessed. "But I have no regrets."

She had to ask him now. Even as they were dancing she had to know.

"Why exactly did you choose to grant my wish?" Christine inquired. "You could have just given me the knowledge and changed my voice in an instant. You've done more than what I've asked, just to make me become an opera singer. Some of it I still don't approve, but I want to know why. Why, when you could have easily left me within a month- what is the reason?"

Erik opened his mouth but paused for a moment. After what felt like an eternity he replied.

"I have to confess that I was only somewhat interested in you at first. The first time I heard you sing, you weren't meaning to actually sing, but it was somewhat adequate."

Christine felt a little offended by this, but she knew what he meant and let it slide.

Erik then gave her one of his rare, genuine smiles. "But when you sang with your soul, then I truly _heard_ you. I could feel your true self in your notes as well as your potential for greatness. When you confided to me how much singing meant to you and why it was important, I wanted to help you. You have a dedication and strong resolve to overcome your obstacles in order to gain what you seek, which is something that a few others rarely bother to deal with, or at least put in half the effort you've manage to give. In you I could see a loneliness and a longing that I too once knew, but there is also fire and kindness. There is a genuine rarity about you, Christine Daae, that fascinates me."

Christine felt that heat flare up in her face and she prayed he didn't see it. "You aren't speaking to me as if I'm a student or a- you know." She hinted. "You speak like a character in a Bronte or an Austin novel, and I don't know how to interpret your words. I still know so little of you, despite how long we've known each other. One moment I feel that we are equals and that there is so much of you that I want to know more of, but then something happens and then I'm not sure who you are anymore."

Erik's grip on her hand tightened a little.

"And you will know when we return to the Opera in a place where it's just the two of us." Erik reassured her. "There is so much that I didn't want to tell you- you know that I have been made to do horrendous things, and there have things I have done that were in my control that I regret to this very day. But for whatever happens tonight- before it's too late- I want you to know this," He breathed in before he could finally confess what he wanted to say.

"I had little reason to desire complete freedom, because of what it little it would have meant to me, until I met you Christine- you who are the real angel of music. You make me want to become normal so desperately that it's killing me inside. Even before I met you, I would have given everything up to be normal- even if it meant sacrificing any if my talents- if God was kind enough to listen to my unanswered prayers. My life had meaning again when the fates brought us together and if there was any reason to become ordinary in every sense of the word at this moment then it would be for you and you alone."

Christine felt her heart stop as the music came to an end and they slowly ceased their dancing.

Erik carefully watched her as all the dancers clapped to the orchestra and parted from their companions or re-joined their friends.

"I-" Christine stammered. "I-" she let go of Erik. "I need a moment outside." Before he could say a word, she found herself gathering up her skirts and doubled her pace as she hurried out of the ballroom.

"Christine-" Erik held a hand out, but it was too late and she was too far away to hear him.

Christine hurried through the hall until she found herself outside on the stone balconies. One flight of steps down the stairs would lead her into the yard, where a fountain was placed and a large willow like tree stood a feet feet away from it and casted a huge shadow, thanks to the light of the moon. Beyond that was what appeared to be a sea of hedges formed into a maze, with a few openings near the tree and the fountain to allow one to enter them and take a stroll.

She hurried to the stone bannister of the balcony and held onto it as she caught her breath and felt the cold night air fill up her lungs.

So it was true then- Erik had fallen in love with her and everyone except her was willing to believe it. How could she force herself to believe otherwise? It explained _quite_ a lot when she thought about it.

She held her face in her hands as she thought over what he confessed to her. It had been a long time since someone expressed romantic feelings towards her, and even with the hints given out she was not prepared for this. Was she really the only reason he would want to sever himself from his supernatural duties and be as human as she and the others?

Did she love him back? He made it very clear how much he felt towards her.

Christine didn't know what to think about this. A part of her had grown to care very deeply towards her benefactor, and part of her was taken with him and everything that he was. A part of her could see a potential future with him, and then there was the fact that she had wanted to kiss him the night of her debut in _Hannibal_.

However, it felt as if there was something missing- something that felt incomplete that was keeping her from feeling so sure about this. Was it that feeling that he was hiding something from her? And even if he had told her everything, would she still be able to return his feelings?

He confessed so much to her, but did she feel for him as much as he did for her? It was too overwhelming.

God, why did this all have to be so complicated?!

She took another deep breath of air.

As she allowed her mind to clear and give herself some time before returning back indoors, she thought she heard someone calling her name from below the balcony.

"Christine!" The voice hissed.

She moved her face from her hands and glanced around in confusion. "Christine!" She looked down to see the last person she ever expected to be here waving to her to catch her attention.

"Christine!" Raoul hissed up at her. "I need to speak with you!"

"R-?!" She gapped in shock, before she caught herself. "What are you-?!" Realizing the error of this method of communication, she hurried to the stairs and went down to quickly rejoin her companion.

"What are you doing here?!" She demanded in a hushed tone as she rejoined Raoul near the fountain. "How did you know I was even here?!"

"I saw you poking out of your carriage when I was in the gardens." Raoul explained. Indeed, he was dressed for an evening walk and even had a scarf around his neck and a pair of leather gloves on. "I wanted to speak to you, but I wasn't able to catch up to you in time. When I stopped at a place where I usually go to visit Auguste and the others, I heard that you were performing for Lady DuBois, so I had to sneak in."

Christine began to panic, but she was also not happy to see Raoul for other reasons. "This is not a good time to visit me!" She warned. "You will be thrown out, but that won't be the worst thing that could happen to you if you don't leave right this minute!"

"I needed to apologize to you for what happened at my home!" Raoul grabbed her arm. "My brother's words were horrible and I don't approve of them, nor do I believe them to be true!"

"Well I've changed, Raoul!" Christine shot back. "We've both changed! I don't even know if I could ever still be able to remain your friend after how much your brother made it clear that he was trying to seek out a wife for you and thought of me as a waste of-"

"Do you honestly believe I want to find a wife under those circumstances?!" Raoul scowled. "And as for what we had- you know that we were both more then friends!"

"Raoul I'm warning you, this is not the time or place to be talking about this!" Christine nervously glanced to the chateau and prayed that nobody would see them- _especially_ a certain someone. "Even so, I don't know if I could ever fit into your world! My life is just beginning and I don't think it could ever line up with yours! I don't even think I could be able to-"

Without any warning, Raoul drew in and kissed her right on the lips.

At first she couldn't breathe and her mind instantly went blank as she didn't know how to act.

The part of her that still adored Raoul, however, was more than happy and longed to continue what once was, so she closed her eyes and just let it happen. She gave in as Raoul deepened the kiss and gently held her as raised her hands to his arms-

Her mind screamed a warning and she drew back from him as if he were fire.

"I'm sorry!" She gasped. "That- that was all too sudden!"

Raoul was hurt by the rejection, but he realized the error of how fast he moved upon her. "I'm sorry." He held a hand out. "I just- I got a little carried away, but I couldn't think of any other way to show you how much you still mean to me. The last time we parted as children, I also kissed you and swore that I would never forget you. As you can see, I kept my promise and my duties on the sea and my status can't prevent that. No matter what, I confess that a part of me still cares deeply about you."

"I understand." Christine slowly nodded. "I too feel the same. Its just- too much has happened to me lately." She sighed. "There's too much about me that I couldn't tell you, nor would you be able to believe any of it."

"But it's not enough, is it?" Raoul asked as he moved closer to her and took her hand. "What if I said I could help take you out of Paris and find another opera house to establish yourself as the singer you truly are?"

"What?"

"You only had a few nights as the star and I doubt you'll have the chance again as long as Carlotta is the leading soprano. I myself am no longer comfortable here, what with Philippe's expectations for me being a major part of it. Just say the word and I can take you to on a train or a ship to any place you want to go and start anew. You have enough credentials to prove yourself to anyone else that you are ready and I will support you all the way; I owe you that much."

Christine was stunned by this proposal. Did Raoul care that much for her and would be willing to risk giving up his life as a noblemen for her?

Christine was about to say how much she appreciated Raoul's offer, but that she had to decline in the light of why she was even here in the first place, when she heard a very slow clapping from near the tree.

"Bravo," said a very low voice laced with sarcasm. "Such spirited words Monsieur."

Christine felt her blood turn to ice as Raoul glanced over to where the tree was. Oh no- oh God no. _This_ was what she had feared.

She turned around to find that Erik moved away from the tree as he lowered his hands. His yellow eyes momentarily shone in the darkness, like that of a cat, before he emerged from the shadows and into the moonlight and they resumed a natural appearance. There was a very sarcastic smile on what was seen of his mouth, but it was the look of fury that was waiting to erupt in his eyes that made Christine scared.

"It's just as I foretold." He addressed her. "He's forcing you to choose between you and your career which has only barely begun to grow. And though you clearly told me that you were through with him, I come out here to find that you are having a secret affair behind my back."

"It's not what you think!" Christine quickly protested as she held her hands out in defense. "He snuck into the chateau when I wasn't aware of it!"

"Yet I didn't see you showing restraint in his gesture of affection." Erik glowered at Raoul, who was also not pleased to be in the presence of the unexpected intruder (and possible romantic rival at that.). "In fact, you seemed to like it. Perhaps your as simple minded as those who came before you and seeking more to add to your career after all."

Did he just imply- no, he _wouldn't_ have!

"How _dare_ you accuse me of trying to take advantage of him!" Christine growled. "Especially after what I told you, the last time I spoke to the Comte de Chagny!"

"In Christine's defense, I haven't made contact with her since the last time we have met." Raoul added. "She made it very clear that she didn't want to see me again. This is all my fault- not hers."

"You have no part in this, other than being a distraction." Erik coldly addressed the vicomte. "I have high doubt that you would really know how to support Christine's career beyond your finances, and if you had an ounce of wit about you, then you would have suspected that Christine was at this chateau to gain favor with her supporters in the honorable way, without resorting to trickery."

Unsurprisingly, Raoul did not take kindly to this. "So, Little Lotte- _this_ is the angel of music to whom you gave your soul to on the night of your debut." Raoul almost sneered at Christine. "I can see why you had a complaint or two about him."

Everything became deadly silent as Christine felt that all hell was about to break loose and she was terrified. How could she have forgotten that Raoul overheard her talking with Erik?

Erik stared at Raoul, before turning to Christine.

"Christine," Erik's voice was quiet, but the restrained fury was clearly raging within it "I told you not to tell anyone about me. Did I _not_ say that on the day we met?"

"Erik, wait!" Christine quickly protested. Considering what he was capable of, there was no telling what would happen now. "Raoul and I both heard with that story as children, remember? Everything else was not my-"

Without warning, she found Erik grabbing her shoulders and he began to violently shake her.

"You little Delilah!" He snarled into her face. "I warned you, and yet you still went against my word! What else have you told him about me?!"

"Let go of her!" Raoul yelled as he charged in and forcibly separated the two away from each other, but at the cost of drawing him further into the conflict. Erik almost fell over when he was pushed aside, but he caught his footing as Raoul made to comfort Christine. The young woman was staring in horror at the masked being as his eyes narrowed and he began to draw his mouth into a furious snarl, like that of an animal about to attack.

"So you want to fight me, boy?" Erik held a hand out- with fingers tightly clenching the air- and twisted it around to form a flame. Whatever bravery the vicomte displayed was gone when he stared at the flame and tried to comprehend what just happened. In the end he was no different from the rest of the human race, who couldn't comprehend or accept the strange. " _You have no idea who or what you are dealing with_!"

"Run, Raoul!" Christine yelled, just as Erik moved his hand and prepared to throw the flame at her childhood friend. However, Raoul grabbed her hand and pulled her towards the maze. They only just made it in when the orb of fire hit the spot where Raoul had been standing.

"What are you doing?!" Christine yelled at Raoul as he tried to lead her through the maze. "You can't do anything against him! He's not like us!"

"And leave you at his mercy?!" Raoul demanded as he momentarily stopped to try to figure out which way to go. At that moment, they heard Erik let out a laugh, but what was unsettling was that it seemed to be right next to them.

"That's right, keep going monsieur!" Erik's voice taunted as Raoul pulled Christine in one direction. "Keep going!"

 _Why is he doing this?!_ Christine thought as she let Raoul lead her through the maze, while hearing Erik laugh and taunt them from every angle imaginable.

What had just happened then? Why did he lash out at her like that? Why did he just try to kill or injure Raoul?

"Lead her all you want, but I'll always find my Mistress! She is more tied to me than she is to you, boy!"

"What is he?!" Raoul turned his head and demanded to Christine as he tried to lead her away. "What is he doing?"

"I tried to tell you that there was a reason that you shouldn't be here!" Christine angrily yelled back.

On and on they kept running and getting lost in the maze, with nothing but greenery that towered over them as far as the eye could see. All the while a voice was whispering in their ears from every single angle possible.

"I'm here!" To their left.

"I'm here." Behind them.

"I'm here!" In front of them.

" _Fate links thee to me forever and a day!_ " The voice sang all around them. _"Fate links thee to me forever and a day!"_

This was not the work of a spirit who wanted to support Christine. This was not the secret friend of her and Meg. This was not the jinn who proved to them that the world was more than they could comprehend in the best way possible. This was the mind of some sort of mad man.

Just as they were getting closer to an exit, they turned a corner and found themselves at a dead end. Though Raoul was out of breath, he forced himself to pull at Christine's hand and turn around-

-Only to come face to face with Erik, who had his arms crossed over his chest and was looking extremely irritated.

"I'm growing tired of this game."

Erik reached a hand out and grabbed Raoul's neck, just as Christine felt something wrap around her wrist and pull her away from Raoul and into the hedge wall, which cushioned her from the force of the impact. One quick glance revealed that some sort of root had bursted from the ground and wrapped itself around her glove covered wrist.

"Erik, what are you doing?!" She yelled as she glanced back to Erik as Raoul was trying to pry his hands off his neck, but to little effect.

"I'm sick of the hypocrisy of the world and you are no different than the rest." Erik growled as his grip tightened around Raoul's neck. "All I see is someone who has been privileged all his life and has little understanding of what human suffering really means. Why should you believe yourself to be worthy of her?"

Raoul was visibly struggling to gain air and Christine felt her heart pounding in fear. "Erik stop!" She pleaded as she tried to pull her wrist free from it's bonds. "Erik please let him go!"

Raoul's face was changing colors while Erik retained a sinister stoicism as his grip tightened on the younger man.

"Erik I wish you wouldn't hurt anyone ever again for my sake!" Christine yelled as clear and loudly for him to hear as she could.

Unfortunately this caused a backfire that she forgot about- the ring that suppressed her from making a thoughtless wish sent out a jolt that felt like she put her finger through something hot and she let out a cry as the feeling quickly vanished. This was not the first time something like this had happened but this time it felt painful to her.

However, Erik could sense what just happened and though the two remaining wishes remained intact her words still stunned him well enough that he turned around and finally paid attention to her.

"Hurt anyone ever again-" Christine hissed "-and I swear I'll do something so drastic that you'll have no choice but to obey me! Now let him go or I'll make it a reality when you least expect it!"

Christine was internally relieved to see that she was still truly in control of the situation when she made her word clear to Erik, even though he regained his anger and directed it onto her. He obeyed and let go of Raoul, who fell to his knees and gasped for air as he massaged his neck.

"You would waste a wish on this boy, when you have two promises to keep to me?" He snarled.

"You said you can't kill anyone!" Christine yelled back in disbelief.

"Well then, I'll tell you something that you haven't known about me that I kept from you: those three rules I must obey didn't always exist! That boy should be considered lucky that there was a time when I _did_ kill people! I have had blood on my hands several times over and the very last person I killed was a former master of mine!"

Christine was rendered speechless as Erik observed her taking in those words. Her eyes widened in shock and though a part of him was telling him to stop, he could not help himself because he was too angry to care.

"Did you honestly expect that I wouldn't resort to the means I went through for you?! I could have done far worse to Carlotta if I had any say in it!"

" _I didn't ask for it!"_ Christine yelled when she regained her senses. "I never asked for anyone to get hurt!" With that she turned to Raoul, who looked up at her in worry. "Get out of here Raoul! If you value your life then don't you dare tell anyone what happened!"

The young man was reluctant to leave Christine in this situation and wanted to stay to protect her. But seeing that there was little choice in the matter, or that he could be able to do anything for her, he got off the ground and ran off.

Erik didn't bother to watch him go and kept his gaze on Christine.

"Now I see you for who you really are." Christine coldly growled. "You are just a monster hiding behind the guise of being a helpful spirit when in the end you are only doing it all for yourself, aren't you?"

"You have no idea how far you go with your words, or how close to the truth you really are." Erik made no attempt to deny it as his eyes narrowed at her. "But to rebuff everything I've given you thus far and call me such a name is ungrateful, my dear."

"What would happen if I granted you your freedom?" She shot back. "If what you told me was true, then you would lash out in jealousy at anyone who would dare look at me- no." She corrected. " _Anyone_ who goes against you. And without your restraints, you'd kill them, right? Without restraints, you'd force me to love you, right? Right?!"

"The world owes me for all it has denied me!" He yelled and threw his arms out. "You may think your early life was horrible, but you have no idea how fortunate you have been in life! I deserve compensation for the hell I've gone through, thanks to the heartless and the thankless members of all the human race!"

"Then if that is the case, I can never grant you what you desire." She declared, even though the cold air was making her shiver and made her seem less strong than she really was in that moment. "I am forever grateful to you, but if this is who you really are, then I can't let you roam free and take your anger out against me and the rest of human kind. Power doesn't make you a better person and you do not possess me- I am my _own_ person and I will make my own choices. I am not someone's prize to be won, and I swear I will defy anyone who thinks otherwise."

She refused to be Faust or Marguerite: the temptations were gone, anything left was no longer desirable, and she saw through the trickery not a moment too soon. She was now realizing what she got herself into and though there was no knowing that the consequences would be from all that she had gained, there was still a chance for her to sever her contract with her personal Mephistopheles.

There was a tense silence between the two. Gold eyes that seemed to glow in the darkness of the night burned just as easily as the blue that burned like the heart of a flame.

There was no telling how Erik would react now that Christine had pushed him too far and made her oath.

Instead he began to disappear into the fog like smoke that seemed to signify his coming and going between the real world and his domain.

"Then may you curse this day, Christine Daae." Erik warned before he was completely engulfed. "May this night be the night of someone's downfall. Pray to your heartless God that it's not you."

The eyes stayed locked onto each other, never moving away until the gold set vanished in the smoke, which then dissipated into nothingness.

The root weakened and fell off Christine, who stared at the spot where Erik stood for a moment, before following the trail Raoul took to get out of the maze. She kept a calm demeanor on the outside, but inside she was worried about Erik's declaration.

* * *

The rest of the night at the chateau was spent in quiet observation and Christine left earlier than she had intended. Already she was in her brougham and was heading back to the Opera House, but this time she was alone and contemplating what her future held for her, now that Erik exposed a darker side of him.

Too much had happened in one night; what seemed overwhelming, yet so wondrous, became a disaster. The moments in the gardens played over and over again inside her head and she couldn't forget the moment Erik made to try to kill Raoul, or how he grabbed and shook her in his fury.

As the brougham got on the bridge over the river Seine, she rested her hand against her face and she felt her ring under the glove. She took the satin glove off and pulled the gold band off her finger before she examined it; this thing had stopped her wish but it had been enough to stop Erik. If it actually came true, he could have done something far more horrific. At the same time, this stupid gold band had almost done more harm than good- it was no different then a wedding ring, it caused confusion, and it felt like a physical barrier she had to wear all the time, in case Erik was nearby.

She could still feel the bottle in the hidden pocket of her dress- it had been there the whole night and now Erik was somewhere inside it. A part of her wanted very badly to throw it out the window and never see it again.

"What in God's name is it that you want from me, Erik?" Christine huffed as she pressed her hand against her forehead. "What is it that made you angry at me for almost wasting my second wish?"

It had to be the last piece of the puzzle that was Erik, but she was only realizing now just how much he was hiding from her. He confessed to having killed people before- including a former master- so for all she knew, the answer to all these problems was staring at her in the f-

The carriage suddenly came to a halt without warning. Christine shot her head up in confusion as she heard the driver call out to someone or something in a concerned voice.

Something landed on top of the carriage with a thud over her head that made her flinch in alarm. The driver was momentarily silenced by it, but then he made a strange sound of protest before the carriage started jerking about.

Against her better judgement and out of concern for what was happening, Christine moved off her seat and the cloak she was using to keep warm and opened the carriage door to see what was the matter.

A figure covered in a black cloak was strangling the driver with some sort of cord as the man was struggling for his life.

Christine let out a gasp and the figure turned around to face her- the hood of the cloak was drawn up and she could see nothing of the person's face because a full faced mask as black as night was covering all of it.

Christine flinched in horror and almost screamed as she dropped the ring from her hand, but instinct told her to flee and that was exactly what she did. She ran away from the brougham and the hooded figure as fast as she could and headed to the safety of anywhere across the bridge that she was on. She could see that her feet were taking her towards the side where the Palais Garnier was located, but she would have to make do with running into the nearest open building, where many people were residing.

The figure shoved the driver off the brougham and Christine heard a snapping sound before she glanced behind to see the figure leap off the carriage and run towards her.

She let out a cry and grabbed her skirts, in order to double her pace.

Behind her, the figure drew a second cord from within it's cloak. It held one end with a loop up and swung it over their head in a circle before they got close enough to Christine to cast the end out and it sailed towards the soprano.

Christine felt something around her neck and when it tightened around her, she couldn't breathe as she felt her body jerk back. She clutched at the cord in horror as she felt herself be pulled towards her pursuer, who made sure that Christine would struggle to breathe instead of try to escape. When they got close enough, they forced her arms down and wrapped the rest of the cord around her and bound her arms to her sides until she could barely move them.

"Shhh!" The figure hushed Christine, who panicked and tried to cry out, but the figure grabbed the cord and pulled to make it tight around her neck as a warning and it began to feel much worse.

Why was this happening to her?! What was going to happen to her?!

The figure walked Christine to the edge of the bridge towards the small barrier between the ground and a drop into the freezing waters below. Christine could already feel the cold night air against her skin and her shivering was making her physical discomfort much more worse, but when she saw what her attacker was about to do, she struggled as hard as she could.

The pursuer grabbed her neck with a free hand and stopped.

A moment or two of agony seemed to pass as Christine waited and tried to ponder how to get out of this situation. The only option she had was almost impossible, since her arms were tied too tightly against her body and the foolish pride left inside her was demanding not to have Erik help her.

The figure then made a disappointed 'tch' sound.

Christine felt the cord around her neck loosen up and she was free to take in a breath of air. She took a gasp and shut her eyes in relief until she felt something forcibly and painfully make it's way into her torso and she lost her air for the second time in a row as she cried out in pain and doubled over.

One glance told her that the assailant stuck a dagger into her- a dagger with an ebony handle and gold markings had punctured her body.

The assailant ripped the dagger out of it's holding place and shoved Christine over the stone balcony, towards the waters of the Seine river.

* * *

 **Ah yes, the Seine River. Can anyone guess why I chose the river for this scene? It has to do with a certain adaption of the novel.**

 **I hate making Erik the bad guy here, but it is in his character and he would not have reacted any other way. Unfortunately, I think that his behavior is effecting the possibility of a good ending for him, like in his canon story. I feel bad for the guy but his behavior isn't something to excuse so easily- especially when we see cases of it in real life. That's why he's a hard character to love and why I'm not comfortable with the behavior of the fans who hate Christine specifically because she didn't choose him.**

 **For those who are displeased with his behavior here, don't worry- I think you can take a guess as to what'll happen next. He's about ready to regret his words...**


	13. Severed

**Child of Music and Dreams: Yeah he's going to be in for a** _ **bit**_ **of a surprise. It's not fun to be Erik at this moment in time. (Or... well... maybe for awhile if you can sense where this fic is going.)**

 **Dreagon-fire: Christine isn't going back to the underground lake anytime soon, but that would have been interesting. In this case, Erik is jealous of Raoul for more than just looks- he has the freedom to do normal everyday things that most take for granted, for one thing.**

 **Nobody seemed to be interested in why I chose the Seine for that scene, so I'll just say this, without spoiling anything: have you seen the silent film with Lon Chaney, or at least know how it ends? Actually, speaking of which: whenever Erik crosses his arms in this fic (or whenever I draw him doing so) it's almost always how Lon Chaney does it, as can be seen in a certain picture of the actor in the film.**

 **Alright, so where were we... oh yeah Christine was stabbed and shoved into the Seine!**

* * *

 **Chapter 13: Severed**

She was about to hit the waters of the Seine, but she had to act. Christine only had a moment to take a quick breath of air (no matter how it it hurt to do so) before she plunged into the icy water of the Seine.

The cold immediately bit at her skin as her body began to sink and shiver from the temperature at the same time. She struggled to get to surface, but the cord around her body, the injury she sustained, and the weight of her dress was making it difficult.

All the while, her blood was leaving her body and she was tasting a hint of it in her mouth. It was dark in the waters of the river, but the moonlight showed that a trail of red was escaping from her wound and up to the surface.

Thankfully her assailant didn't bind her legs together. With quick thinking and all the flexibility that came from being a ballerina, she was able to raise her legs up as her hand struggled to reach into the secret pocket in the folds of her dress and reach for the bottle, even as it made the injury harder to bear and it almost made her cry out in agony.

 _Save me! Please save me!_ She was screaming inside her head.

With each passing second, she forced her hand to reach down until her fingers brushed against the object. She forced her hand to reach down even farther until her fingers finally rubbed against the bottle, just as her body couldn't take the lack of oxygen and she was forced to open her mouth and choke on the water that filled up inside her.

The jinn appeared in a burst of smoke and moment he realized he was underwater, he quickly casted a spell that would let him be able to breathe underwater. At some point in his fit of anger, he had taken off the jacket of his dress suit and the whiteness of his shirt (combined with the mask) almost seemed to glow in the moon and the water.

He didn't have to look too much in order to find his Mistress, who was sinking deep into the depths of the water- they had only one second to lock eyes with each other before she lost consciousness and shut her eyes.

He didn't see the injury- all he saw was that Christine was drowning and his mind was flooded with a frantic panic when he knew that she was in danger.

Erik had no idea where to take Christine as he quickly swam down and grabbed her- all he could think of was someplace that was safe as he transported them out of the water.

Meanwhile- up on the bridge- the masked assailant had seen a hint of the activity that occurred in the river. They stared at the waters for a few moments before lifting something up between their fingers to examine carefully, with a newfound realization.

It was the gold ring that Christine had accidentally abandoned in her haste to escape from them.

* * *

The dormitories of the ballerinas and chorus girls saw various kinds of activity in the late hours of the night. A few of the older girls had left to have some fun in the city, while the others stayed behind to play card games, read, or gossip amongst themselves. The many candles that lit the room in a dim glow gave them the light that they needed and the shadows that were cast by them held no sinister evil to threaten them.

"Damnit Lucille, you can't use a three!" Angelique accused the other girl as she took a swig from her bottle during their card game.

"Yes I can- it says so in the rules." Lucille pointed out with a smug smile. "Now pay up!"

Angelique, Violette, and Suzanne groaned as they gave the victor two francs each rom their on pockets.

"You know that we have to go to bed soon." One of the younger ballerinas told the older young women. "Madame Giry will come and scold us all again."

"It's our night off- let us have some fun." Violette shot back.

"Do you think we could beat them one day, Rosina?" Rebecca turned to face the reader, who was scowling at what she was reading. "Rosie?" She asked.

"Why does mythology have to have so many different versions to their stories?" The girl sighed as she set the book down. "On one hand, you can only kill a magical being with magic, but in other cases you have to do something else, like use iron against them or say a prayer."

Meanwhile, Meg was sitting on her bed and staring out of the window while she was oblivious to those around her.

Was she making the right decision? Or would she need to risk telling Christine what she had discovered first? She deliberately chose to avoid her for the rest of the day because she didn't want to ruin her friend's night.

There was a very loud cracking sound, followed by a chorus of terrified cries and a few screams. When Meg turned her head, she saw something she would _never_ have imagined for a thousand years to ever happen.

Erik- who was somehow _soaking wet_ and sending water on the floor- was not only physically _inside the dormitories_ , but he was setting an _unconscious_ Christine- who was equally soaked but had some sort of rope wrapped around her body and neck- on the floor.

Pandemonium ensued.

" _What the hell?!_ " Suzanne was the first to voice the other girl's confusion. All the girls had no idea what to make of Christine appearing in their room like magic and with a man at that. (which, under normal circumstances, would have been very scandalous.) "HOW DID YOU GET IN HERE?!" Marie yelled at the strange half masked man.

At the same time, Erik was trying to force the water trapped in his student's lungs out by repeatedly pressing the heels of his hand into her diaphragm as frantically as possible. When he deemed that he did this enough times, he forced her mouth open and carefully put his hands around her mouth and breathed into it- the only other alternative would have required taking the mask off, which was the very last thing he wanted to do in this moment in time. This denied him yet again a chance to kiss her, but he would not consider this until much later.

All the while, his ears were filled with a bunch of screaming ballet rats that were not helping his nerves in any way possible.

"Christine?!"

"What is going on?!"

"Who _are_ you?!"

"Why is there a _man_ in our room?!"

"EVERYONE SHUT UP!" Meg somehow found her voice and yelled as she bolted off the bed and to the door, which she quickly locked, and she slammed herself against it to prevent anyone from escaping. There were times where she and Christine talked of what to do in cases where something like this would happen, but this incident required from fast thinking on the ballerina's part.

All the girls were torn between staring in shock at their unconscious companion on the floor (with a man in their room!) and Meg, who suddenly resembled her mother in that moment.

"Nobody leaves this room!" Meg demanded; she had no idea what was going on herself and she had a feeling that something was wrong. Whatever caused this demanded her to be rational and ready to deal with the rest of her fellow performers.

"And who is giving _you_ orders, Giry?" Suzanne demanded as other girls stayed still and were mesmerized by what was happening.

"If anyone screams or says a word about this, I'll tell mama just how many bottles of liquor are hiding in this dorm as well as reveal any secrets you've been hiding from each other!" Meg threw out her ultimatum. "Got it?!"

"Oh God, she's bleeding!" Another girl almost screamed when she saw that Christine's dress was turning red near her torso.

The other girls realized what was happening and some gasped in horror or looked away as they couldn't bear the gruesome sight. "Oh God, no!" Helene paled at the sight as she clasped a hand to her mouth and looked away.

At the same time- which was Erik's fifth attempt to bring her back to life- Christine was able to open her eyes and she coughed out the water in her lungs as her body rolled over on one side. At the same time she could feel the cold seeping into her damp body and she began to shiver, though she could barely move move because the cord was still wrapped tightly around her.

Having heard the observant girl's scream from before, Erik glanced at Christine's body to see the large rip in the torso area of her body, where a huge crimson mark was bleeding into the once white fabric of her dress.

How could he have missed that?! He realized with a sickening dread that in trying to save her life, he possibly hastened her death.

"S-s-save me," Christine panted through her chattering teeth as her face was slowly losing it's coloring. Already the blush in her cheeks had dulled down, while everything else was turning white. "Please," she hissed, "I don't w-w-want to-die-"

"It's alright!" Erik frantically set her back on her back and squeezed her shoulders for reassurance. "I promise that you'll live!"

Erik quickly let go of Christine and pressed his hands onto the wound as hard as he could and begin to concentrate. Christine let out a cry of pain when the pressure against the wound made it even more unbearable to handle, even if it could temporarily stop the blood from leaving her.

"She needs a doctor!" One of the girl's protested. "Why aren't you-"

"Stay where you are, Beatrice!" Meg snapped at the girl; she stayed by the door and prayed that someone wouldn't come to the door and try to find out what was happening. (Especially if it was her mother, who happened to b a few doors down.) "We don't need a doctor!" She added.

"What are you-"

" _Just trust him!_ " Meg half demanded-half pleaded as she glanced back at her friend.

Thankfully the other girl's were staying calm and those like Jammes or Violette began making signs of the cross and began to pray. The others could only watch in horror for they had never seen something so horrifying as someone this close to death's door.

Erik already knew that the location of this plight was the most rash and foolish choice he had made since he had been living within the walls of the Opera, but it was too late to turn back and he tried to focus on healing Christine.

It wasn't the first time he had to do this after all- he had done this to himself a few times but it was never as worrisome as this, nor did it ever fill him with this much determination to heal the patient. Christine's life was almost literally in his hands and it was soaking her dress and gushing to the floor, but her body was shivering under his touch and it was only making the injury much worse, in addition to killing her faster.

 _If there is anything I can be allowed to have, then please let me save her!_ He internally pleaded. _I'll do anything,_ _but don't you dare take her away from me!_

He had to destroy any infection that got into her open wound while the flesh knit itself back together at the same time. To Christine, this was like pouring alcohol on an open wound and she had to fight back a cry- the actual healing process almost hurt a lot worse than when it was caused.

In that exact moment, all the girls besides Meg witnessed something that they had never seen before.

A strange turquoise blue light appeared from under the mysterious man's hands and escaped from under his fingers as it became a sort of smoke that drifted gently into the air. The light made the white of Christine's dress give off a supernatural glow and it was also casted up onto the face of the healer, where it removed the permanent scowl of the white half mask he wore. Without any shadows, the mask's features merged together and it almost seemed to glow in an ethereal light.

Christine made this silent observation herself as she felt her body begin to repair itself. If it wasn't for the fact that she was cold, shivering and close to dying, she would have felt relaxed and at ease.

The world was going out of focus and details were becoming like a blur, but all she could focus on was starring into Erik's face. In her state of hovering between life and death, she was forgetting about the events of that night and was seeing Erik as the angel she considered him to be- to see him so afraid and so determined- he almost seemed vulnerable and human. Even the blue light almost made it so that both sides of his face looked the same.

It was all she wanted to look at if she were to die.

Erik was so focused in his task that he almost didn't notice someone walking around Christine's body. When he looked up he saw that it was Lucille who knelt beside Christine and wordlessly took her shoes off, before wrapping a blanket around her feet and calves and began to dry them.

"What are you-" He began to ask.

"I don't know who you are, but you aren't the only one whose going to try to save her." The ballerina sharply informed him before looking up and issuing a command to the others, "Someone get another blanket and get the water out of her hair. If the injury won't kill her, then being wet and cold will. And cut that damn rope off her!" She fiercely added.

The nearest girl- Jammes- cursed and ripped her blanket off her bed as she hurried to also kneel by Christine's side and first took the loop of the cord off her neck before she made to get Christine's head on the blanket and squeezed the water out of her tresses.

"J-J-Jammes?" Christine slowly asked as the world around her began to spin. Her lips were almost too pale and devoid of color- she was very close to looking like a beautiful corpse.

"We got you, Christine." Jammes reassured the other girl as she gently worked to get her dry. "You're going to be alright. You're going to be alright." She almost said these words like a mantra to reassure herself.

"Here." Suzanne ripped her blanket off her bed but she draped it over Erik's shoulders when she approached the two. He didn't turn to face her but he appreciated the gesture and that she didn't try to do as her friends did and dry him off. "Might as well- don't mention it." Suzanne muttered and turned away to hide her blushing cheeks.

"Got it!" Christine turned to see Rebecca- the little mezzo- quickly kneel beside Christine and began to furiously cut one section of the cord off her with a pocket knife in her hand.

Finally Erik was finished and pulled away from Christine as the blue light gently faded until it died for good. The blood stopped gushing, now that it had been sealed back inside her body, and he could see pale, untarnished skin under the layer of the dress. Everything was restored back to the way it was supposed to be, except there was still the chance of her dying from blood loss.

He gave her a brief glance and noticed just how pale she was, as well as how much blood she had lost on her dress, which also seeped onto the floor. How much else did she lose before she summoned him?

He glanced to his hand and quietly observed the blood- Christine's blood- on it. He needed to give her life and this time he couldn't do it alone. _Someone_ in this room had the same blood flowing in her veins- one of these girl's could save Christine's life. He knew because he made sure to note whose blood could match with both Christine and Meg, in case of an emergency like this.

He closed his eyes and tried to seek out the match as he carefully moved his hand outward and some of the girls let out squeamish sounds upon seeing the blood. He immediately felt the connection and opened his eyes to see his hand reaching out to the girl he needed the most.

"Mademoiselle Rosina, you share the same blood that Christine has." He addressed the reader as he carefully picked up Christine, while Suzanne's blanket fell off his back. "I need you to come with us."

Rosina shot him a very perplexed look, as did the other girls. "Does he mean that she's related to her?" Rebecca wondered out loud as Rosina got up and walked over to Erik. "Hang onto her." Erik cautioned. "As for you three, you've done all you could at this point." He addressed Lucille, Jammes, and Rebecca, who only now managed to cut through the first section of cord. "I couldn't thank you enough."

"Of course." Lucille nodded as she and the others walked away. "But you better save her life, monsieur."

Rosina obeyed Erik's command and both they and Christine vanished out of the room and left the other girls in a state of confusion.

"Alright, was it me or did that really just happen?" Violette demanded to everyone.

"Well, if anyone asks, we can always blame it on the green fairy." Angelique shrugged. "I'm convinced that's what just happened to me and I haven't even touched absinthe for quite some time."

"Or maybe he's a magician," One girl let out a nervous laugh as she eyed the enormous blood stain on the floor, "A doctor magician- that would certainly explain things."

"Please save her." Meg whispered at the spot where Erik had taken away the girls. "Please don't let her die."

* * *

"I need you to be willing to sacrifice some of your blood in order to save her." Erik told Rosina when they appeared in the dressing room, where the gas light was quickly turned on. When she shot him a confused look he explained "I only need enough to ensure that she doesn't die from blood loss. I promise that you will survive this procedure unharmed, though you might feel a bit dizzy afterwards."

"Alright then." Rosina calmly nodded. "What do I do?"

Thankful that the girl he needed was the most level headed of the others, Erik commanded "Hold out your arm."

"Get her out of the dress first." Rosina demanded. "You heard what Lucille said."

Seconds later, Erik's section of the room became engulfed with smoke and the girl shut her eyes. When Rosina opened her eyes, she saw that a gorgeous bed in the shape of some sort of boat was now in the room and it was filled with all sorts of pillows and a very warm looking blanket.

Christine's now ruined gown was laid upon the floor, and the singer- who was still in Erik's arms- now wore a beautiful white dressing gown. The cord that had been wrapped around her body was now on the floor and as far away from her as it could be.

"Incredible." Rosina was in awe as Erik gently laid Christine down in the bed and put the blanket over her, before turning to Rosina. "Hold your arm out." He reminded her.

The girl obeyed and watched in fascination as Erik summoned out a very strange tube with a curious looking needle on one end and some sort of bag on the other. "Why me and not any other girl?" She asked.

"Because none of you realize yet that you need to share a specific kind of blood in order to save someone's life." He explained before carefully striking the needle into Rosina's arm in the spot above her elbow. The girl winced, but she held her tongue.

Rosina watched in awe as her blood escaped down into the needle and into the tube. "I take it this is some sort of magic or science that has yet to be developed." She mused. "I do read quite a lot of books, you know." She explained when Erik shot her an interested look. "I try to keep an open mind about things, though a part of me is still having a hard time believing any of this."

"I understand." Erik agreed as the blood finally went into the bag. "But I assure you Mademoiselle Rosina that this will one day be the latter. Though I would not advise you to attempt this yourself, unless you want to risk poisoning someone."

"How is it that you knew my name?" Rosina carefully sat down on the bed next to Christine- the singer looked drowsy, but she was still conscious.

"It's a long story that is best for another time and for your sakes I would advise you and the others to never repeat what has transpired tonight."

"I doubt anyone would believe us. Besides, what would we gain from exposing your secrets?"

The transferring of Rosina's blood into the bag was passed in silence as both the donor and the temporary doctor gave each other a thoughtful look, though the latter occasionally glanced to the patient, whose eyelids were threatening to drop. It was hard to tell if she was even aware of what was happening right now or not and that was worrying Erik.

"You should get yourself out of those clothes and into something dry yourself." Rosina noted. "I'm just saying so, in case you aren't aware of it."

Erik finally spoke when all the blood he needed was in the bag and he attached a new needle into the tube. "I have had the chance to observe you and the others and I think that you would do better as a scholar than a performer." He then made a careful judgement of where to place the needle into Christine's arm and stuck it in her.

"If I wasn't a woman, than maybe I'd believe you." Rosina was a little offended by his words, yet she was curious about what he said to her. "I wish I could be a writer or own my own library." She admitted. "But I doubt anyone could take me seriously."

"You do recall that there are women who have made wonderful accomplishments that history tries to forget, correct?"

"I... I suppose." Rosina admitted.

Erik had no idea why he was being so talkative with the ballerina. Perhaps he needed to keep his mind off Christine until he could transfer Rosina's blood into her. "Ironically, I am a composer of sorts, so I understand your own desires."

Although it was going to be a long night, there was at least a small ease provided through the conversation of writing and books that Erik had with the reader. It helped to pass the time, while occasionally making sure that all the blood was successfully transferred into Christine's body.

* * *

A gray sky covered Paris in a gloom in the early hours of the following morning. Raoul was among the few who was not hurrying off to work, but he needed to go to the Opera House and speak to Christine. He had spent a night at a friend's home and was now making his way across a bridge over the Seine when he saw a perplexing sight. Apparently a brougham was set on fire at some point in the night and it's blackened and charred remains were now dead center at the bridge and had gathered a group of onlookers- most noticeably a small number of policemen who were trying to solve the case.

"-was reportedly set on fire sometime after midnight." A policemen reported to M. Mifroid, the police commissioner. "No driver or any passenger, but a horse was found going about his way unattended without an owner in the city. We have already deduced that the creature belonged to this brougham."

"And inside the brougham?" Mifroid inquired.

"The charred remains of what we assume to be paper and something we can't identify. The paper is too far gone to have any sort of clue in this case."

"Who would do such a thing?" Mifroid wondered out loud. "Could it have been the passenger? The driver? Or was there some sort of ambush in the dead of night?"

Raoul had a sick feeling inside his stomach and hurried his pace. He had no idea what happened last night, but he knew that Christine was somehow in danger and he needed to try to reach her before it was too late. He hoped to God that she hadn't been involved with that accident on the bridge, though the fact that it had been set on fire was telling him otherwise.

Especially when he almost met a similar fate by the man she claimed to be her Angel of Music.

Within half an hour he was finally inside the Opera and he only had one idea of where to go. After asking for directions, he hurried to the dormitories of the young women who lived in the building and knocked on the door. To hell with chivalry- he needed to make sure that Christine had a word with him as soon as possible.

One of the girls inside let out a curse and a set of footsteps grew louder as one of the ballerinas opened the door a few inches. "Who is it?"

"Someone who needs to speak with Christine Daae."

There was a pause before the voice called out to someone. "Meg, a man is asking for Christine. Should I-"

The door burst wide open to reveal the ballerina at the door, along with a reddish blonde haired young woman who sported a darkness under her eyes as if she had a restless night. Both girls were in dressing gowns and behind them was the sound of someone trying to scrub the floor clean as hard as she could. The girl who was apparently Meg looked concerned, but then her expression vanished into puzzlement when she saw Raoul- apparently she must have been expecting someone else.

"Who are you?" Meg demanded.

"I need to speak to Christine." Raoul informed her.

"She's not available, Monsieur." Meg curtly told him. "She had a long night last night-"

"Yes I know, but I need to speak with her now! It's incredibly urgent!"

Meg sighed and went into the hallway. "Monsieur, you have no idea what exactly she went through." She began as she shut the door behind her. "She's not going to be available for most of today."

"Do you know anything about her voice teacher, Mademoiselle?" Raoul pleaded. A quick look of alarm in the girl's eyes gave her away. "You do know something! Do you know that he possess supernatural abilities?"

" _And?_ " Meg raised an eyebrow at the vicomte as she crossed her arms, though her posture was stiff. It was as if she didn't believe him, but she was acting like when he tried to keep secrets from his siblings when he was a child. Such behavior was getting on Raoul's nerves- did she not understand what was happening?

"Well for one thing, he tried to strangle me last night!" Raoul threw out. "He tried to choke me to death with his bare hands after he tried to burn me alive! I don't know who or what he is, but I am afraid that Christine is going to be in danger if things continue the way they are now!"

Meg's guard immediately dropped; her eyes widened as her arms dropped and she turned pale. She starred at Raoul, but it was as if she really wasn't- it was as if she was experiencing some sort of horror in her memories.

"What happened?" She asked in a hushed whisper.

* * *

The only light that was in the dressing room came from a few candles placed here and there. The evening dress that belonged to the slumbering maiden in the boat shaped bed had been restored back to it's former glory and was set aside, while a certain black bottle rested next to a necklace that used to be around her neck on the top of the vanity.

Kneeling at the side of the bed, in silent vigilance, was Erik. He had resumed his traditional attire in place of the soaking wet dress suit and he was exhausted from not getting any sleep that night. Although he could have chosen to turn on the gas lighting in the room, he preferred the comfort of the candle light and how it gave the slumbering beauty a soft glow on her skin, which almost looked healthy again.

He allowed Rosina to leave when he was done with her, on the account of informing Meg where they were. Although she provided a temporary comfort, Erik still denied himself the gift of sleep as he wanted to make sure that Christine would survive the night and stay alive.

She was still alive and breathing that morning, but she was in a very deep sleep. In her state, Erik was allowed to quietly admire her external beauty without being noticed; she would have made a wonderful forest nymph or even a queen, had she been born into another lifetime.

There was, however, a noticeable flaw: a ring of bruise markings circled her long, slender neck and it left him wondering several times just who could have attempted to take away a young life that had only just begun to take flight.

Erik reached a hand out to Christine's and moved it towards him. She no longer felt cold to the touch and he gently caressed the back of her hand with his skeletal looking thumb.

For once he had an idea of what it he felt like to others- he felt the touch of death before, but never had it been as cold to him as it did last night. It was just another nasty reminder of how similar and yet so different the two of them really were.

"Christine," He softly spoke- almost as if he were murmuring to her, "had everything gone according to plan, then this would have all turned out differently. I could have been like everyone else, and you could have shown me off to those girls, just as they would show off the men that they adore. Instead of scaring them away, they would have asked me many questions while staring at you in envy. I would have freely walked under the sun with you, without having to hide away from the others. I could have gone wherever you desired to go, if only you said the words to me."

He sighed and bowed his head into his arm, which was resting on the outer side on the boat. "I would have taken you to those gardens today if you had done all that you promised me."

If only that foolish boy hadn't have been there to ruin everything! If only there had been given a chance to just get the worst of that night over with and show her the truth! Instead, someone with a death wish thought that they could murder his Christine and toss her into the water like she was a piece of trash!

He realized he was squeezing her hand to hard and he thought he heard her let out a moan of protest, so he released his hold and glanced up to see that she was still asleep.

She was alive and he could not have been more relieved. Unfortunately, in saving her life, a sacrifice was made- there was now one small, delicate line that connected them together. There was one final wish that she was allowed to make before she couldn't make any more wishes. Instead of correcting his hideousness, she was kept from dying- something that could have easily been prevented, had his pride and anger not ruled his mind.

Someone was playing a sick joke on him as if he had to be denied the joys of life, no matter what good deed he could manage to accomplish.

There was a knock at the door, but Erik didn't move- he made it so that none could enter and intrude upon this sanctuary- until he heard Meg's voice.

"It's me- I know you locked the door. Can I please come in?"

Erik merely waved a hand at the door without looking and the lock was undone. He didn't look towards the door when it opened and when it closed, he instead gave a mere glance at the mirror in the room.

What he was not expecting was Jules Giry staring at him with an angry look in his eyes and a dark bruise around his neck that was eerily like the one around Christine's neck.

" _Do you remember what I said about how certain actions don't justify your pain and turn you into the monster they think you are?"_ Jules harshly whispered as he messaged his neck.

Alarmed by the sudden appearance of the man who should have been dead by his own hand, Erik turned around to face Jules- only to see Meg standing in his place.

"Are you alright?" She asked.

Erik slowly glanced back to the mirror to see that Jules had vanished and in his place was Meg herself.

"Nothing." He shook his head. "I thought I saw a ghost from my past." He kept forgetting how similar the father and daughter looked in appearance.

"I see." Meg's eyes briefly glanced to the bottle on the vanity, before she went to the bed and knelt by it's side to look at Christine. "Oh God!" She gasped when she saw the mark around Christine's neck.

"I made sure that her throat was still in good condition and that she will be able to sing today." Erik assured Meg, though there was a dark glare in his eyes as he looked at the marks. Finally deciding that there was no reason to leave those markings around her neck, Erik carefully placed a hand over them and focused on erasing them.

Meg grabbed Christine's hand in her own and held it against her forehead; she held it like that for quite awhile and Erik silently observed her without saying a word. This lasted for awhile, until Meg glanced up at Erik and noticed how worn out he seemed, as well as sleep deprived. She couldn't help but say "It almost looks like you're the one who became close to becoming a corpse, and not Christine."

Despite the circumstances, Erik flinched and looked unexpectedly offended by the remark. "Yes, I suppose Erik _does_ look like a corpse." He flatly- yet almost venomously- replied as he moved his hand away from Christine's now flawless neck.

Instead of responding to those words, Meg glanced back down at Christine and asked "I told you about Isobel, didn't I?"

"The sister you lost?" Erik stiffly asked as he tried to feign ignorance. "I believe I heard a little about her from you."

Meg carefully lowered Christine's hand down as she continued, "She was three years younger than me and she not only looked like my mother, but she just as serious as her. She didn't like dancing- she wanted to be a soldier and fight for our country to 'protect mama, sister, and all my friends.'" Meg smiled at the memory. "She was referring to her dolls at the time. She didn't have that many real friends, but she liked it when father read us the stories he told us. She didn't care much for stories like _Alice in Wonderland_ \- it never made sense to her- but she loved it when he told us the story of _Les Miserables_. Enjolras was practically her hero and she always looked forward to the barricade part of the story." Her smile dropped.

"My father was dead for a year when Isobel got sick; she was never able to leave the house or even her bed. Eventually it got so bad that she was barely breathing and mother wouldn't even dare let me say goodbye to her because she was too afraid of losing me as well."

"I'm sorry to hear that." Erik could only reply. He remembered Isobel when he had kept himself unseen from the Giry girls. She was quite an unusual young girl and had things been different then he would have liked to have spoken with her and tell her stories of battles from long ago. It was rather upsetting to find out that she had died- Isobel was a soul that could have been saved if he had still remained with the family.

Meg slowly got up and walked to the vanity; she sat on the chair and continued to observe Christine from there.

"Christine is more than just my friend," Meg continued, "She's like a sister to me. I'm not going to deny that I'm jealous of her- I want to be the prima ballerina, even if mother won't let me because it would look like a case of favoritism. I really I wish that I could have all the luck she has had, but I also would do anything to protect her. I wasn't able to do anything for Isobel or my father, but I'll be damned if I can't protect Christine from danger."

"We are certainly in agreement on that." Erik turned back to Christine and silently watched over her.

"Can I ask you a question, Erik?" Meg asked. "What happens if you break one of your rules?"

"I already told you that the soul is too far gone and that I can't manipulate one's free will."

"And if you kill someone?"

Erik closed his eyes. "If I do kill someone, then I die. Unless you happen to be magically endowed, then that's one of the only two ways I can get killed."

"I see."

Erik resumed watching Christine and paid no further heed to the ballerina inside the dressing room.

Moments later he suddenly felt something strange overwhelm him: it was if his body felt heavy and he couldn't move his arms or legs.

He glanced up to look into the mirror to see that Meg was holding the bottle in her hand with at least half of a very familiar looking paper pressed against it. The girl herself had a grim look, as if she didn't want to do what she was about to do.

He recognized the paper and knew very well what it was going to do to that bottle, as well as what it would do to him.

"Meg," He calmly demanded as he felt a wave of fear, as well as a dangerous anger beginning to burn inside him. "Where did you get that seal?"

Meg took a deep breath as she stood up with the bottle in hand- the seal was still halfway attached to it. "I really didn't want to do this, but there isn't a choice anymore."

"What are you talking about?!" Erik demanded. "What on earth is possessing you to do this?! Do you not realize that the one who tried to kill Christine is still out there?!"

"So you can kill him even though it means your death, right?!" Meg snapped back. "Or something much worse?! You tried to kill the vicomte out of jealousy so that if you couldn't have her than he couldn't either, right?!"

Erik wondered how she could have known that, until he realized that the boy must have come to try to see Christine. "He spoke with you, didn't he?" He growled at Meg, who proceeded to knock on the door to the hallway. After hearing two very precise knocks, Meg opened the door to allow Raoul of all people to enter the room.

If there was anything to make this situation worse for Erik, then seeing one of the few people who could make him furious added to it. The nobleman himself shared a very tense glare with the jinn beside Christine's bed- _neither_ of them were happy to see the other again.

"Erik, you've been the closest thing to a brother I've ever had." Meg confessed as Raoul went over to the bed and scooped Christine up into his arms while Erik kept his gaze upon him. "It's still strange for me to admit that when you've been more like a guardian, and I could never thank you enough for all you've done for me and Christine. I wanted _so_ badly to believe that you were good at heart and that you deserved your freedom. I almost hoped that you and her could be together- I even encouraged it a few times- but I was so naive as to just how possessive you really are of her."

Erik watched in anger as Raoul proceeded to wordlessly take Christine away from him. This couldn't be happening to him! Why would they be doing this to him?! How dare they all!

"Meg, I swear you will regret it if you don't-"

"No!" Meg stood up and snarled at Erik as she pointed the bottle's opening towards him, while Raoul closed the door to the dressing room and left Meg and Erik at each other's mercy. "I won't listen to you anymore! You threatened me once before and I'm not letting you do it again! You know what your problem is?! You don't have enough faith in someone to give them a second chance or to trust them! You didn't trust Christine enough, you didn't trust me enough, and you sure as hell didn't trust my father when you killed him!"

Erik was rendered speechless at the revelation that Jules Giry's daughter knew the truth.

"I didn't want to believe that you killed my father, but you acted in such a way that it was impossible to think otherwise. I mean, have you ever regretted killing him? You obviously didn't learn anything from when you did! I kept my silence when I returned because I didn't want to scare Christine on her special night, but I at least wanted to try to tell her and let her make an opinion!"

"Meg, I do regret killing your father." Erik confessed. "He was one of the few men I ever respected and trusted. Please, don't do this- not when the one who-"

"I's too late, Erik." Meg took a deep breath as tears began to escape from her eyes. God, it was agonizing to do this, but she had to stay firm. "I have to do this to protect everyone. I almost wish that you got everything you wanted, but if it puts Christine in danger than I can't let you near her!"

And with those words, Meg pushed the seal completely against the bottle where it stayed.

"Meg, wait!" Erik protested, but it was too late- the jinn became engulfed in the fog like smoke and Meg watched in silence as it was quickly sucked into the bottle. Everything went back inside, and when the last of it returned into the bottle, the stopper closed over the opening on it's own.

The boat bed was gone from the dressing room, along with the masked jinn and possibly for the very last time. There had been no storms, fire, or something much worse- just smoke. He had simply vanished as if he were some sort of ghost.

"I'm sorry, Erik." Meg quietly apologized as she gave the bottle a glance- the jewels shone with their usual pristine whiteness, though the seal was now wrapped around the bottle and marred it's beauty somewhat. "I'm sorry, but I had to do it."

She genuinely wished things had turned out differently, but she had to do the right thing- she could not risk losing someone ever again.

There was no time to waste; with a heavy heart and guilt over what she had to do, Meg left the room and began to make her way to Monsieur Khan's to end this tragic story for good.

* * *

"What will happen to him?" Meg asked as she handed the bottle to Nadir when she appeared at his flat.

"That I am not so sure of." Nadir examined the bottle carefully. "Considering what has happened, he has become a danger to you as much as he became one to himself. It would be a horrible fate if I were to leave him trapped for all eternity, but I can't find it in me to remove him from this earth for good just yet."

Meg silently stared at the bottle for what she assumed to be for the very last time. Never again would she or Christine ever see Erik again- that bottle contained memories that were as wondrous as they were shocking. It also probably contained a very angry spirit who would probably kill her, if given the chance.

"You will be safe from him." Nadir noticed Meg starring and reassured her. "I promise that I will take this somewhere where you will never have to see him again. Darius and I will leave at seven tonight, in the event that your friend wishes to have a final say in these events, but I'd advise her to think carefully if she does consider undoing the seal. There is no telling what will happen to us when it is taken off."

Meg had no idea what to say in this moment. Life had to go on, but it was going to be awhile to get over the deed she had done.

"I wish you and Darius well." She got up off her seat and headed to the door. Nadir set the bottle on the table and escorted Meg out.

"Remember Mademoiselle Giry," Nadir promised "if you and your friend are in dire trouble and need assistance, I will be there when you need it."

Meg managed a weak smile as Nadir opened the door for her. "I appreciate it Monsieur, but I have a feeling that won't be necessary."

Nadir watched as Meg left his flat and as she headed back to the opera until she was out of sight. He let out a sigh and went back inside the house to begin another difficult journey.

"We must begin preparations for a journey across the sea." Nadir told Darius, who silently observed all that had occurred. "Canada would be our best course of action at the moment- not to mention that they speak French in some parts of the country." He sat down at his usual seat, across the table where the bottle sat upon.

"Forgive me for asking, but are you sure we should let Mademoiselle Giry's friend try to reason with us, as well as the jinn?" Darius inquired. "If he is infatuated with the young lady, there may be a chance that he could take her away or even trap her inside the bottle with him."

"The former is possible, but there is only one way to keep him from taking her in the bottle." Nadir gave the bottle a cautious glance. "If that bottle is destroyed, he will die. If it ever came to that, then I would do so to protect the young lady."

"Still, we should begin preparations." Nadir decided. "Let's hurry."

"Of course," Darius bowed and was about to begin packing away their belongings, when an unexpected knock was at the door.

"Could she have changed her mind?" Nadir wondered out loud as he glanced to the door. As Darius went to open the door, Nadir felt that something was wrong and recalled what Meg had told him about what had happened to Christine.

"Darius wait!" He shot out of his seat, but his servant had already opened the door.

Seconds later, a gunshot rang out and the younger man was knocked backwards to the floor.

"DARIUS!" Nadir almost screamed, but he quickly made to grab the bottle and run out of the flat.

"You better hope that you didn't hit something vital, Fantine!" A female's voice hissed as Nadir hurried to leave the room. "It's not often you find a Persian in Paris!"

Just as Nadir was running towards another room, another gunshot rang out, but this time it hit the wall above him. He froze as his grip tightened on the bottle and he slowly turned to face a red haired woman in glasses, with a gun in her shaking hands. Despite that she was a great danger, it was evident by the fearful expression in her eyes that she didn't want to try to kill Darius and Nadir.

"Good- good!" The voice of the woman praised the other one. "You have him where I need him."

Nadir and the red headed lady continued staring at each other as the other intruder was doing something by the entrance, judging by the sounds she made. She finally made her way towards the red headed lady and gave Nadir a triumphant smile.

"Oh don't worry." She almost mockingly assured Nadir. "Your manservant isn't dead- he's still of some use to me, though it might spell misfortune for you, depending on what mood I'll be in."

Nadir stared at the woman dressed in white and some sort of gray fur wrap. "Who are you?" He demanded.

"Oh me?" The woman shrugged. "I am merely Lilian, the researcher of the supernatural- at least, that's what I'd like others to believe. Isn't that right, Fantine?" She gave the red headed lady a knowing look, but the other scowled as if this knowledge pained her.

"On the other hand, I am a forgotten face." Lilian's smile dropped. "I am a name that has been doomed to obscurity because those who shared my blood have tried to will it so, along with those who I thought were my allies. I've been waiting a long time to find what I seek and I think you know as well as I do what I'm referring to. I think you also know what will happen if you try to use _that_ against me." She pointed to the bottle in his hand. "I'd advise against it because I will see it coming and I'll end your life in an instant: one move and Fantine will put a nice little hole through your skull."

"Still, it was very difficult to find that object." Lilian threw a hand out. "But thanks to the help I had, along with the little nightingale and her connections, it ended up being easy. I'll be sure to show them my gratitude in due time." She then shot a very dark look at Nadir. "Of course, I can't say the same for you, _Daroga_."

How did... No... no it _couldn't_ be!

"Allah have mercy on us all." Nadir almost whispered as he gazed in fear at the woman.

"Allah is nothing but an idea, you foolish man!" Lilian snarled. "There is no such being as an Allah in my eyes! You and the others may cling to your pathetic faith in your gods, but the only absolute in this world is power and will to get what you seek, which I certainly have!"

"However," Lilian snarl drew into a wicked grin. "If you still have enough faith to pray to your precious Allah, then I see no harm in letting you practice the daily ritual. You still haven't started the first of your prayers yet, have you? Or perhaps you don't have your prayer rug, or whatever it is that you use these days. I can certainly fix that for you, my dear."

* * *

By the time Christine finally woke up, she only had two hours left before the cast and crew were called in to discuss the next opera. She was confused as to why she awoke in her bed in the dormitory, when she remembered that she had been placed in a different bed. She also couldn't see any sign of Erik or even Meg for that matter.

The ballerinas and the chorus girls who witnessed the unusual events last night gave Christine a wondering, yet guarded look in that timespan. They were happy to see that she was well and they obviously wanted to know what had transpired, even if they didn't say it out loud.

They had been curious about Erik and how Christine knew him- they discussed him the night before and wondered if he was really some sort of magician who knew foreign secrets to healing wounds. They also noted that, whoever he was, he was certainly attractive and it was unfortunate that they couldn't see his whole face thanks to that mysterious half mask he wore. If he was an admirer or suitor of Christine, then she was _very_ fortunate in her luck.

"It's part of his stage costume." Meg had previously lied when they asked her about the mask. "He probably forgot to take it off."

Rosina only told them what she was allowed to say and the ballerina still tried going about her way as if nothing happened. When asked if she had seen the man without the mask, she didn't say a word- she already had suspected that he was Christine's tutor and wanted to respect his privacy.

It was very strange to realize that Rosina's blood currently flowed in Christine's veins- the two were now linked in a very unnatural way, beyond marriage or familial ties. Christine assumed that Rosina must have considered this strange thought herself and she made sure to thank Rosina when she had a chance.

"Thank you for what you did last night." Christine gave the girl a smile. "I guess it worked after all."

"I'm glad you are feeling alright." Rosina quietly replied with a smile. "I guess your doctor is more than what he seems."

"He certainly is." Christine thought back to how watchful he was of her and what he did to save her life.

There had to be a way to repay him, even if he put her through hell the previous night. She didn't know if it was still possible to give him what he wanted-not her love, but the other thing he seemed to desire- but it was something to think about for another time.

The time came for everyone to gather on stage and Christine shared a silent glance with the other girls until she spotted Meg. The ballerina looked very reserved, which was unnatural for her, and Christine wanted to know if she knew where Erik was. She was sure that he would have been in the dressing room throughout the night with her.

"We appreciate you all for coming this morning." Andre and Firmin stood by Reyer, Madame Giry, and the others who helped lead the productions and it was Firmin who was currently speaking to them. "As you may have suspected, it has been decided that our next opera will be _Il Muto,_ which would be a breath of fresh air after producing something as ambitious and dramatic as _Hannibal._ "

The cast let out a round of applause and many were already excited. Christine was only slightly interested as she tried to spot Erik out; he normally appeared on these discussions in secret, but this time he was nowhere to be found.

"But first, we have a special change for this production." Madame Giry spoke out. "La Sorelli, if you would like to take a stand-"

"Thank you, Madame." The prima ballerina rose from her spot and glanced around at her co-performers. "I am afraid that _Hannibal_ is to be my last production with this company at this theater. I have been asked to perform in England and I have accepted their offer."

Many of the performers extended their congratulations to the dancer, while others were a little sad to learn that she was to leave them.

"I have spoken with Madame Giry and we agreed that my successor will be the prima ballerina for _Il Muto_ and for the rest of the season." Sorelli continued with a smile before turning to the lucky ballerina. "I hope you are up for the challenge, little Meg."

All the ballerinas turned to Meg, whose quietness vanished as her body straightened up and her eyes were alight. "Wh-what?" She stammered.

"Congratulations Meg!" Lucille beamed at the ballerina and drew her into an embrace as the rest of the corps de ballet became excited and gave the blonde their praises and well wishes. Some, however, were not impressed and already were turning green upon looking at Meg. Christine herself was snapped out of her pondering and gave Meg a grin, but when Meg glanced at the singer, her happiness suddenly evaporated and she looked guilty for some reason.

After the girls settled down, Mercier lead off the cast list and revealed that Meg had also been granted the part of the Countess's maid. Those who were granted roles were thrilled or took them with silent grace, but then the casting came to an interesting turn.

"We have decided something different for this opera, in the light of recent events." Mercier spoke. "We discussed this carefully with the others, as well as with the managers, who have seen benefits to this chance that we will take. We have decided that both La Carlotta and Mademoiselle Daae will alternate the role of the Countess, while Daae-"

"I will _certainly_ not!"

All eyes glanced to Carlotta, who was fuming at this unwanted surprise. "It is one thing to have an understudy, but it is another to be forced to allow that girl to have the nights that I rightfully deserve! I will not accept this!"

"Madame Carlotta, if I may," Gabriel cut in, "Eventually we will need to have someone worthy of being your successor when you leave this company and Christine has proven to be ideal for such a position."

"I will not share my role with some chorus girl!" Carlotta viciously snarled as she shot Christine a dirty look. Christine herself shot the woman an equally dirty and very offended look. "Such a choice is an insult on my honor as a performer! If you are seriously this delusional, than I might as well leave you and jeopardize your-"

"Oh for the love of God, will you shut _up_ , woman?!" Rosina of all people was the one to finally stand up and face the woman. Carlotta turned a pale white and Piangi was already up on his feet and ready to defend his lady, but she quickly recovered as her mouth drew back into a sneer.

"How _dare_ you, you little brat!" Carlotta snarled. "No one tells me to-"

"You want to know why they want you to alternate with Christine Daae?! Fine, I'll spell it out for you!" Rosina held her ground as everyone stared in shock at her. "You always try to take days off when we need you! And then when you catch wind that someone is performing in your stead, you come back and claim that you recovered from whatever illness you caught! _Hannibal_ was almost ruined because you insisted on not having an understudy!"

"You also insult your fellow performers!" Janette (a soprano in the chorus) joined in. "We remember what you said about Miss Danvers and how nasty you were about sharing the spotlight with her!"

"You insult us!" A stage hand added from the side.

"You never take anyone's advice!" Adolfe (a tenor and member of the chorus) pitched in. "You know how we always get those notes that tell us what to improve on in our performance? We still try to take any advice to do so, whereas you still sound the same as when you first came here!"

"Plus you aren't that great of a singer to begin with!" A very daring maid woking near the first few rows of seats threw out.

"I could have you fired, you miserable cretin!" Carlotta proceeded to attack the maid with a string of curses in Spanish.

"Can you _please_ fire her?" Gabriel whispered to the managers. "I think she's proven her point by now."

The two managers shared an uncomfortable glance and whispered to each other as the others watched Carlotta throw out her curses with slight amusement. Finally they came to an agreement. "Signora Carlotta!" Andre yelled.

This shut the woman up.

"Although Firmin and I hate to do this, it appears that everyone has voiced their complaints. However, because you are still valuable, we are willing to offer you a choice: you may work alongside Daae, or you are free to terminate your contract with us."

Carlotta's eyes bulged out of their sockets, but she remained as calm as a volcano that was about to erupt at any moment. Slowly she glanced around at all the performers and staff- none of them seemed afraid for her, nor were they upset.

Finally her eyes settled on Christine and the two stared at each other for what felt like an eternity.

"You may think that you have everyone at their feet and you may have supporters hiding in the wings, but there will come a day when you too will be cast out of this place." Carlotta coldly warned Christine. "Don't think that your luck will last forever just yet!"

And with that, Carlotta stormed off the stage with an equally enraged Piangi trailing behind her.

"Well there goes our tenor." A male member of the chorus muttered as soon as the duo were out of earshot. The silence that came after Carlotta's warning lasted until she and her companion went past the doors and were out of the theater.

"Well, I suppose it looks like both Mademoiselle Daae and Monsieur Baudin will have to take over as Hannibal and Elissa." Reyer pipped in with a barely disguised cheerfulness.

"And I suppose Daae gets to have the role of Countess all to herself, though we may need to figure out who will be _her_ understudy." Gabriel turned to Christine. "I was going to say that you would also alternate the role of Seraphimo with Mademoiselle Clotilde, but I suppose she is allowed to have the role all to herself."

"And I certainly accept the role with an eager anticipation, Monsieur Gabriel!" Clotilde clasped her hands together with a big grin on her face- it was no secret that the young woman wanted the role and was very fond of pants roles to begin with.

After the excitement died down and the preparations were made, Christine felt like she was caught up in a whirlwind and needed to take a break. She had the roles handed to her almost without any effort on her half and there was no hint of Erik's involvement this time. She should have been happy that all this had come to pass and that Carlotta was gone but something still didn't seem right.

"It's been a whole week- where the hell has Joseph gone?!" A stagehand asked his friend as Christine looked for Meg.

"Meg?" Christine found the ballerina and pulled her aside to a more secluded location. Before she could begin to ask questions, she drew her friend in an embrace. "Congratulations Meg." She pulled back with a smile. "It was finally time that you became the prima ballerina. Now we both accomplished our dreams and you at least were able to get yours without the trickery that mine involved."

Meg glanced away from Christine and looked at the floor. She had the look of a child who broke something and was trying not to say a word about it to their parent.

"Meg?" Christine frowned. "Meg what's wrong?"

"I did something while you were asleep." Meg confessed with a sigh. "But you need to hear my story before you get angry at me."

Christine's eyes narrowed. "Meg, what are you talking about?"

Meg took a deep breath and looked Christine in the eye. "My father used to be one of Erik's masters and he didn't die from a gunshot wound- Erik strangled him to death because he discovered that the room where we first met him was to be his secret hiding place from the rest of the world."

Christine felt the insides of her stomach churn and her heart stopped at the same time.

* * *

Christine and Meg hurried back to the flat as fast as they could.

"Monsieur Khan!" Meg pleaded as she frantically pounded on the door, only for it to unexpectedly open on her. She raised an eyebrow in concern at this but she pushed the door open and went in, followed by Christine.

Meg let out a gasp when she saw that the house was devoid of it's furniture. It was as if Nadir and Darius had never been there to begin with- how was that possible in such a short amount of time? "No-no, he lied to me! He said he was going to leave at seven!"

Christine stared in quiet horror at her surroundings.

"Oh God, oh God." Meg moaned as she ran her hands through her hair. "Christine I'm so sorry! I shouldn't have left when you were asleep! I was only trying to protect you!"

"Erik is sealed away." Christine quietly spoke out loud. "It's all my fault."

"It's not your fault Christine!" Meg protested.

"What if it is?!" Christine demanded. "I failed to keep a promise to him and now he's sealed away because I was too rash! He warned us that he didn't want to be found- what if the person who tried to kill me was after him?! Or what if I said something different last night and he could have prevented that from happening?! What if had let him tell me all his secrets after our time at the chateau?! I promised to give him his freedom and now he's sealed away for all eternity! It would be a miracle if he doesn't try to go after any of us! Especially you!"

"Oh Erik!" She moaned and held her face in her hands. "Erik, I'm sorry! This is all my fault! Please forgive me!"

Meg observed her friend's distress and pondered over whether or not she _did_ make the right choice. If Christine felt that she was in genuine danger from Erik, she wouldn't have been acting this regretful, unless she was afraid of what could happen if he were to return to them.

"Christine, answer me this: did... did you ever love Erik?"

"That's the thing, Meg!" Christine let go of her face and raised her head to the ceiling. "I honestly don't know what I feel for him! He can scare me, but I don't hate him! A part of me feels lost without him, but at the same time I'm not! I'm horrified for his fate, but at the same time I'm still angry at him for what he almost did to Raoul and all that he kept from me!"

"If Erik had been free- if he were a normal man- would you have accepted a courtship from him?" Meg quietly asked.

"I-" Christine sighed and grabbed her arm as she looked at Meg. "-I would have." She admitted. "I would have tried to see if we could ever be more than what we truly were- if we could ever be more than servant and mistress or teacher and student. I almost kissed him once before, out of a curiosity to see what it would be like. He confused me but he made me feel alive and whole again in a way I never felt since father died. I-" She bowed her head. "I honestly don't know what to do now or what to believe in anymore. I wish our relationship had been simple and straightforward, but it's been so complicated!"

Meg gave her friend a moment, before she went over to hug her. "I am really sorry Christine." She whispered. "For everything I could have done to make this worse, as well as what I did to him."

"It's fine," Christine returned the hug "I know why you made your choice and I can't blame you for that."

Meg let go of Christine. "But I understand if you are angry at me." She replied. "And for that, I need to leave you be for a little while."

"No!" Christine frantically shook her head. "I don't want to be alone. Not after what almost happened to me- there's no telling if my assailant will try to attack me again."

She allowed Meg to lead her out of the flat. She didn't know what to think or what to do now, but she only knew that it was only a matter of time until something were to happen. Whatever it was going to be, she knew she had to prepare herself for it.

But neither of the girls knew that an intruder had been hiding in the flat and she stepped into the room when they left.

Lilian had listened to their conversation carefully and she was thinking it over in her head as Fantine joined her. "So that's how it is." Lilian mused. "Your angel is more than an angel to you, Daae."

She then smiled. "Well that gives me a rather splendid idea."

Lilian turned to Fantine, who was giving her an angry glare as she held a leather bag out for her. "You have been a wonderful help, my love." Lilian praised the servant as she took the bag. "Of course, I still have a use for you before I can set you free."

"Free?" Fantine snarled in anger and sarcasm. " _Free?_ "

"Yes you will be free; don't you dare doubt my word." Lilian snarled back before she regained her cool demeanor.

"I do believe the Masquerade will be a suitable occasion." Lilian peeked into the bag. "There is something quite poetic about the event alone, but now I know that Daae can still be of use to me." She reached down into the bag and recited something out loud.

" _Should they shine white with light, may they be pure of heart with Allah's graces_." She shook her head. "Oh of course they would for you, Daae- Allah _himself_ would want you to join the seraphim in heaven and sing his praises."

She pulled out the black bottle with gold markings and grey jewels. The seal remained on it and Lilian had no intention of removing it just yet.

"I can finally end my own masquerade and start what I've been planning for a very long time." Lilian almost hungrily grinned at the bottle and at its jewels as a darkness bleed into the gray stones until they were completely black.

Fantine shuddered at the sinister change in the bottle. If her gut instinct hadn't been as strong as it had been before, then it was stronger than ever and telling her that something bad had caused the change. It was as if the other woman's true nature was being revealed through those stones and she feared what the woman in white would unleash from that bottle when she deemed it the right time. Or to be more accurate, the time that _she_ deemed right.

 _Allah have mercy on us all indeed._ Fantine thought as she stared at the bottle.

* * *

 **Another cliffhanger! But hey, I got my wish to have the other girls meet Erik!**

 **Also, Meg sealing Erik away to protect Christine is a bit of a wish fulfillment. Ever since I saw the 2004 movie, I wished she had been more involved and I wanted her to save her friend, instead of Raoul. Seeing their chemistry together onstage also added to this need to have this happen.**

 **I might as well give Meg's actress a shout out while I'm at it: when I saw the musical in 2015, she was played by Morgan Cowling, and she made an amazing and very compassionate Meg.**

 **The blood transfusion is a bit of a 'jumping the shark' moment but I figured that Erik would somehow discover the procedure, as well as blood types, before they became scientifically important later on (He's got magic after all). Plus, I realized it seemed tragically appropriate to have Erik discover this and chose the donor carefully, since the late lyricist Howard Ashman had worked on Disney's Aladdin until his unfortunate passing from AIDS.**

 **I'm eager to write the next chapter: I've been wanting to write it for** _ **quite**_ **a long time for a reason that I can't say just yet. Oh I'm going to have so much fun with it! :)**

 **As always, reviews are appreciated but I appreciate that you guys are still reading this. I promise that I'll do my best not to disappoint you when we get to the next chap- ah wait one more thing!**

* * *

A strange blonde young woman laughed as she rubbed the bottle. "Oh, this is going to be awesome!" She told herself as the jinn in the bottle appeared. It took him a moment to realize that something was off and when he turned to the young woman, she held up his bottle and gave him a cheerful wave.

"...Who are you?" Erik asked.

"Well-" She began "-my name is *CENCOREDFORPRIVACY* but I go by HolyMaiden24 in certain parts. So anyway, I figured I'd take advantage of this moment to abuse my fan fic writing powers and make some wishes of my own- I already know the drill because I wrote this fan fic. Also, you can't try to kill me, because I already died and was brought back to life in one of my other fan fics and I honestly don't want to get killed off again."

Erik did not like the sound of any what he _did_ understand from this strange person. (And he didn't care about it.)

"So then, Genie Erik... can I wish to be granted a real soprano voice and play Christine on broadway for one day?" The writer asked.

"No." Was the quick and very adamant response.

"Darn, I figured as much! Well can I please see the musical again-"

"No."

"Can you help me edit my past fan fics?"

"That sounds like something you should be doing on your own, Mademoiselle *CENSOREDFORPRIVACY.*"

"Uh... why are you-"

"I refuse to call you by the other name. I don't like the sound of it, nor do I trust it."

"Ok fine!" HolyMaiden24 sighed. "Can I wish for you to crossover into chapter 15 of my Ocarina of Time role swap AU for an outtake? It'll involve an organ and I can discuss something over there that apparently happened with that outtake in chapter 5 in this story- you know, the thing you were asked to do for accidentally killing Carlotta?"

Erik stared at the writer for a few seconds. "I might consider it."

"YAAAAAAAAAY!" The writer cheered with childish glee as she threw her hands in the air.

* * *

 **Anyway, see you next time! :D**


	14. Not as you know him

**Draegon-fire: Hmm... we will find out, but it might be awhile before we get there. You will also get your answer in this chapter in regards to who is after Erik.**

 **Meg does mean well, but she has made things worse. I think she will realize just what consequences will come from those actions.**

 **Child of Music and Dreams: This is the chapter where you'll find out if your intuition is correct. I'm genuinely curious to find out what your reaction will be, since this one is important.**

****3W****

 **I recently realized that thanks to certain details in this fic, Meg is possibly between 17 or 18 in this story. I meant for her and Christine to be somewhere between 18 and 24, though if you would rather have Meg be 17 or 18, then Christine would at least be 20 around this point in time or somewhere close to it.**

 **Just a few notes before we begin: I know it's weird that it seems like neither Christine or Meg have tried to figure out the truth behind Erik's mask, but keep in mind that sometimes we can accept a mask as someone's face and this ended up being the case in the majority of the 1990 miniseries.**

 **The hula girl costume that will be mentioned DOES apparently exist in the musical, but I think it doesn't show up in too many productions. I know it seems out of place but I HAD to include it.**

 **I would like to point something out, in case no one saw it recently: I learned back in November that the chandelier is actually raised up into a room above the theater, rather than lowered. I want to try to be historically accurate as I can.**

 ******3W******

* * *

 **Chapter 14: Not as you know him**

Meg and Christine had finally revealed all to Madame Giry in the privacy of her office. After explaining everything that occurred, a long silence fell between the three women.

Madame Giry sighed and clasped her hands together in regret. "I'm sorry I was never honest with you Meg. I didn't trust your judgement as a child and I believed that the truth was too incredible for you to be able to conceal."

"Did you ever regret sending him away?" Meg asked. "Did you ever wish that you could have done something different after Isobel died?"

"There have been times where I wished I had better foresight." Madame Giry confessed. "But when I remember that horrible day I remind myself that something much worse could have happened. I am sure that your father would not have allowed any of this to have happened, if he were still alive."

Meg remained silent as she stared at her mother for awhile, before walking out of the office without saying a word. The older woman gave her daughter a very regretful look as she left.

"I've lied to her about her father's death and kept so much from her." Madame Giry reflected to Christine when Meg was gone. "She deserves the right to be alone."

"I have a question, Madame." Christine asked as she turned back. "When Meg told me what had happened to her father, she told me that you and Monsieur Giry promised to grant Erik what he desired the most. She said that you had some sort of negative reaction to it and that was what drove him away from you. May I ask what it is?"

Madame Giry was surprised. "You mean to say that you haven't figured it out?"

This confused Christine. "What do you-"

"Three years, the both of you have spent in his presence." Madame Giry began. "Three years you kept him a secret from me, even though I recognized the signs. In all that time he was with you, did you ever notice something particular about him that never changed? Such as when he made himself visible to others besides you?"

"All I know is that he told us that he didn't want to be found!" Christine was frustrated. "He openly went alongside us in Russia and at Lady DuBois's chateau, but even then he was trying to hide his identity! What is it that is so terrible about this wish that could possibly be related to that?!"

"I think you already know the answer Christine." Madame Giry calmly replied. "Consider what you've learned or seen as carefully as possible. What was the one and only thing that always remained the same about him?"

Christine angrily closed her eyes and tried to think. How could this have to do with hiding? She rested her hand on her temples and went over everything that involved him hiding himself from others- he always kept himself hidden from others, he used disguises, he went out of his area of security so that he could be at the chateau with her, and then of course there was the fact that he always wore a mask.

As she thought back to the mask, Christine suddenly recalled something:

 _Her eyes tried to drift away until she noticed something that she never saw before; between Erik's mask and the ear that was mostly covered up by his dark hair, was a patch of skin and white scar like tissue that appeared twisted as if he had been burnt._

"Is Erik hiding an injury that he can't fix under that mask?" Christine asked Madame Giry. "Or is there something more? He isn't human- perhaps he is one of those deities who we cannot see in their complete form without dying from the sight of it?"

Madame Giry flinched and her hands tightened together. "Of a sort." She stiffly replied. "That is all I can dare say."

"What do you mean?" Christine was growing frustrated. "Why can't you-"

"Only one who has witnessed unnatural horrors could be able to look upon him." Madame Giry's eyes narrowed at Christine. "If you have been sheltered from them your whole life, then you are not prepared to handle the truth."

Christine opened her mouth to let loose a protest- that she had seen death and had almost drowned herself- but realized that Madame Giry would remain adamant in the matter and she was forced to leave.

As Christine left the office, she wondered about the Madame's response. So whatever Erik was hiding under the mask was the answer to all of this? Perhaps he suffered an injury that he was self conscious about and reacted a little too strongly to how the Giry's took it. Considering his temper it would be likely possible, but why didn't he eventually trust her enough to at least show her? If that was the case, then he was going to do so last night.

Christine stopped- then again, when he was in disguise he still hid his face, even from her.

What in God's name was so awful that he had to hide it from others and not tell anyone about it? Why would Madame Giry not be more truthful in her words?

Christine shivered.

* * *

The day of the Masquerade had come and it would be a few more hours until it would start.

Darius had the luck (or misfortune) to learn what Lilian had planned for that night, but there was nothing that he could do as he was chained up in a spare room in her flat. He had been confined to this flat ever since he had been captured and though his wound was treated, he wondered if the woman intended to kill him when she had accomplished her goals.

As for Nadir-

The door opened and he glanced up to see Fantine enter- already she was in a red dress with blue trimming and blue feathers in her hair. Up to this point, she had been responsible for giving him his meals and hadn't said a word at all, though Darius could see in her eyes that there was so much that she wished to say, as well as some sort of sadness hidden behind the anger she held towards her Mistress.

Fantine stared at Darius as she closed the door behind her and when this was done she quickly hurried to his side and pulled up her skirts to reveal something that she had tied against her leg.

Darius watched as Fantine took off the rope and freed the object, which she revealed to be a mask designed to look like a lion's head. She set it next to Darius, who saw that there was not only a set of leather gloves inside it, but also the key to his cuffs, along with a scrap of paper. Fantine quickly put a finger to her lips and shot a warning look at Darius before she left the room and closed it behind her.

Darius stared at the maid in amazement before glancing at the inside of the lion's mask and took out the note with his free hand. In _very_ shaky hand writing was a message:

 _Wait until 11. 11:30 is the time._

Darius understood Fantine's message, as well as that there was still an ally on their side.

* * *

All was gaiety and merriment in the halls of the Opera House as the Masquerade commenced. Kings, monsters, clowns, nymphs, angels, creatures and more merged and mingled together to rejoice in the fun and concealment that came with the events. Music was playing, dancers danced, wine was pouring into cups, and just about any sort of activity imaginable was occurring. There was a pleasing, welcoming warmth about the event and everyone felt safe in their disguises.

Normally the theater itself would be open to the events, but it was closed off as the chandelier had been sent up into the room above to be cleaned. Due to time delays and other mishaps, the theater was currently devoid of it's chandelier and now had a huge hole in the ceiling in it's place.

If there were any who did not feel joyous when the masquerade was taking place, there certainly was one in particular.

Christine Daae was dressed as a lovely star princess in pink, blue, and silver with a moon tiara in her hair, stars on her dress, and a silver mask over her eyes. She was truly a vision to behold, but she was not entirely comfortable in her surroundings- they reminded her of the fact that the one who tried to kill her wore a full faced mask, as well as Erik, who was as still an enigma as he was a source of painful memories.

"Christine?"

She turned to face Meg- the young lady was dressed as a female Emcee of sorts, in magenta and black, and the hat on her head had a black veil that covered most of her face.

The ballerina reached for Christine's hand and squeezed it. "I know," She told her "but let's let this night be for us for a change. Otherwise we'll miss the fun we could of had tonight."

Christine glanced out to observe all the colorful pandemonium once more, before nodding and followed Meg out into the hallway.

Already a handful of there fellow performers were enjoying themselves. One in particular snapped Christine out of her worried state of mind long enough to just stare in awed confusion; one of the ballerinas was immodestly dressed in some sort of grass skirt with flowers adorning her wrists, neck, and around a certain area that was otherwise covered up by a nude form fitting cloth. The brown mask hide her face, but it was very obvious to the trained eye that the dancer was none other than Lucille, who was already attracting a string of onlookers.

"Mother is going to kill her if nothing else happens." Meg nervously gulped.

"I think it's quite a riot!" Angelique- who was dressed in yellow, orange, and brown and resembled some sort of fish- cracked a grin when she recognized the other two. "This party would be absolutely bland if it wasn't for people like us! Cheers!" She raised a glass in her hand at the girls.

The two gradually intermingled with the others for awhile until Christine was greeted by two men.

"Christine?" She turned around to face Raoul and Auguste. The former was dressed in some sort of formal military uniform, but he did not wear a mask. The later simply wore a traditional black dress suit with an ochre hued vest, but he wore a rather detailed and realistic looking tiger mask.

"Raoul." Christine nodded with a kind smile as Meg turned around to see the man she only met once before. "I thought the point of this event was to hide one's face so that the world would never find you."

"I know," Raoul laughed. "I suppose I just wasn't up for it. You remember Auguste?" He held his hand out towards his companion.

"Oh yes!" Christine beamed as she curtseyed to the future baron. "How are you, Monsieur?"

"I have been considering looking into architecture or at least something involving the sort." Auguste admitted. "Father is becoming rather insistent that I quit spending my time at construction sights, as he worries about my health. As long as I can do something related to what I enjoy, than I wouldn't mind."

"You work in construction?" Meg's interest in the man in the tiger mask was raised.

"Ah, I forgot to introduce you!" Christine smiled at Meg. "Meg, this is Raoul's friend, Auguste Cas- uh-"

"Auguste Castelot-Barbezac." He politely took over for her. "And as a matter of fact, I do."

"That's incredible!" Meg was in awe. "My father used to be in a similar field and he helped build the Opera House!"

Raoul shot a rather secretive, yet knowing grin at Auguste. "Perhaps I shall take Christine with me for a dance." He held his hand out to the star princess. "If I may?"

Christine nodded and took Raoul's hand, leaving Auguste at the mercy of her friend.

"That must be quite an honor for him." Auguste turned back to Meg. "I admire Charles Garnier's designs- I'm afraid it's one of the few things I can appreciate about the Opera House itself."

"My father passed away a long time ago." Meg was not comfortable about saying that anymore, now that she knew the truth. "But he did enjoy working here when he was alive and had worked on many sites around France. My mother is the Ballet Mistress and I have just been appointed prima ballerina for the next opera, so this building has been like a home to me ever since it came to be."

"I apologize for my assumption." Auguste inwardly cringed, but he quickly decided to change topic. "So you are a ballerina? I personally prefer ballet over opera myself."

"Really?" Meg's eyebrows raised while she took a secret delight in this.

While the two began to enjoy each other's company (while having no clear idea as to what they looked like under their disguises) Raoul lead Christine into a dance along with many others, as Reyer and his orchestra played their songs.

"I suppose I finally found a woman that could be worth Auguste's interests." Raoul chuckled before he became serious. "You have no idea how relieved I am to see that you are alright." Raoul told Christine as they moved in time to the music. "I'm sure Meg told you about- well-"

"She did." Christine frowned. "I wish she had waited for me to make a say in the matter. I still regret not being able to change what had happened-"

"None of this was your fault, Christine." Raoul stopped her. "I know why he was important to you, and while I personally hate him I also can't deny that he was able to do what no one else could for you. He was able to make your dream come true, and that in itself is a wonderful accomplishment."

"Are you jealous of him?"

"Jealous? I'm angry that he wasn't what I hoped he would be, but yes I am jealous of him."

"Don't be." Christine warned. "I understand what you feel, but he deserves at least some pity."

"Do you know what scares me the most?" Raoul asked. "Is that something horrible almost happened to you while under his care and I feel that you are trying to defend him when he doesn't deserve it."

Christine had no idea how to answer that. Meanwhile, across the room, another confrontation between two former lovers was about to occur.

"Sorelli?"

The dancer turned to face Philippe- the man was dressed in soft blues and whites, but he wore a simple black mask. Sorelli herself wore a midnight blue and emerald dress, with a matching mask adorned with sequins and she looked absolutely radiant in the eyes of the aristocrat.

"Is it true that you are off to England?" Philippe asked.

"Yes." The ballerina confessed. "I have been granted an offer at a company to dance in their theater."

"I see..." It was hard to read the emotion in his voice.

The ballerina hung her head in disappointment when she couldn't figure out what Philippe was feeling about this. "Then you do not love me after all, Comte."

"What are you saying?" Philippe demanded.

"If you loved me, then you would have done everything in your power to stop me- to tie me down here in France and offer a marriage proposal." She let out a bitter laugh. "There have been times where I hoped you would have come to your senses and just ask for my hand in marriage and I would have been happier than any queen on earth for that alone."

"I would get in the way of your dreams." Philippe replied. "I thought you would have preferred it if we treated this relationship as something we could easily get out of without complications."

"I can't always be a ballerina forever- one day my body will be too frail to dance if my legs aren't weakened first." Sorelli placed a hand over her heart and looked at it. "You should know that, my Comte. All girls must grow up and realize that they can't always be prima ballerinas, or perhaps they might never become one at all. I was blessed to have this time when I did-"

"-But you still kept hoping I would come for you, when you wanted to stop." Philippe frowned. "That sounds childish in itself, if you ask me."

Sorelli flinched as if a dagger had been stabbed in her heart. "Then if I did, it shows that I loved you more than you could possibly realize." She replied and added one final thing before leaving. "At least I can restart everything in England and fall in love again with a much wiser outlook on life."

Around this time, Christine removed herself from Raoul and wandered off to try to find Meg. Along the way she saw the managers- both dressed in garish costumes, while Firmin's wife wore something more sensible and less extravagant, compared to most of the other guests. She saw Angelique try to get Remy to dance with her, and she saw Rosina and the younger girls watching the splendor from the sides- some were hoping to find a partner, while others were content with just watching, though a few were equally disappointed that they could not find the costume that their hearts were set on.

"Hello, Daae."

Christine was currently under the grand staircase and found herself facing Lilian. The woman was dressed in a dark purple dress, which split at the middle of the skirts to reveal varying shades and layers of red. Her hair was done up in curls and her arms were covered in black gloves. As usual, she still wore her chocker as well as a strange look in her eyes, though she was not wearing a mask of any sort.

"Mademoiselle Blanchette." Christine greeted politely as she curtseyed to the older woman. "It's good to see you again. I see you decided not to wear a mask tonight."

"Oh I _am_ wearing a mask." Lilian confidently told her. "I have been wearing it for most of this night, but I shall take it off when I deem it ready." She eyed the young woman's costume. "Are you a queen or a princess?"

"I suppose I am." Christine smiled. "Its such a beautiful dress and I had to claim it before the others did."

"But does it represent the night being born, or is it a dying night?" Lilian wondered. "Are you perhaps feeling like one or the other? Oh forgive me, it's just that you seem to be someone who is trapped between two worlds- the real one and the illusions you help create. Colors have that effect, don't they?"

"Yes," Lilian continued thoughtfully before Christine could reply. "Colors are very symbolic and have meaning. Sometimes they contradict in different countries: black might represent death, but it's a sign of royalty elsewhere. White may indicate purity, but it too can represent death. Do you know why I wore white so frequently?" Lilian asked.

"No."

"To mock it." Lilian answered. "Everyone always think that white should be for marriage, for Christ, or for untainted innocence and purity. I think that it's a ruse that even a wretched sinner can hide behind; it is utter hypocrisy and so I wear it to show that I am no different. I have sinned many times in my life, so I shall wear white to prove that even I can mingle with the others. It's almost fitting that even my name fulfills this philosophy. Even your name might hold something meaningful, without your being aware of it, Christine. I can sense that it has an importance to you, and not just because your parents chose it for you."

She let out a bell like chuckle.

"I digress- tonight I shall entertain the guests with a special story, and I would like it if you were to join me on top of the grand staircase above us." Lilian held her hand out. "It has been awhile since I've had to speak to a large crowd and perhaps your presence can soothe my nerves."

"Alright then." Christine shook her hand, though something didn't feel right and she couldn't figure out what it was. "I will see you later on at-"

"11:30. I insist that you be there or I shall become quite cross with you." Lilian warned her, before walking away. "I'd rather _not_ be cross with you."

Lilian smirked when she was sure Christine wasn't looking- she realized that Christine unintentionally gave her a brilliant idea. It was an idea that was sure to work in her favor, as well as prove to be beautifully symbolic.

Christine starred at her hand- what was it about Lilian that she didn't like? There was nothing to fear from her but there was something unnatural about her that made Christine's skin crawl. She seemed to have a charming air and unique outlook on life, but it always felt as if Lilian was hiding something.

Lilian's speech about white made Christine think about Erik's white mask. She wished that he was here with her- he would have enjoyed this event and he would have kept an eye out for her,

Did she truly love him, despite of all his flaws? Was this why she was suddenly missing him? Deep down she wished that she could either have ended things with him in a more clear manner... or that she could meet him one last time to fix things.

Instead she could only allow herself to be lost in the merriment and let the music be her partner. The music was like that from the music box in Madame Giry's room, and she could feel it hold and caress her as it lead her into a sway of joy, like a phantom that only she could sense. A phantom that was the only thing in the world that knew how to fully immerse her in the splendor of the event, when nothing else could do it.

The dancing made her think back to the night at the chateau when she danced with Erik, and how wonderful it felt. The more she thought of that moment, the more she thought of what almost happened- even that one moment where she was so close to indulging in her urge to try to kiss him. If she had known what his personality was really like, would she have still tired to kiss him?

Christine danced with Raoul yet again at one point and when she left him to speak with a few of the ballerinas, someone tapped him on the shoulder.

"Uhm, excuse me sir? You are the Vicomte de Chagny, correct?" Raoul turned around to face a young lady dressed in iridescent blue and black, with a mask styled to resemble a butterfly's wings. "I am." He confirmed.

The young lady stared at him for a few seconds before grabbing the sleeve of his jacket and pulled him to a slightly secluded area with surprising force for one so dainty looking. When she deemed that they were safe, she turned to face him.

"Is it true that you and your brother has made an acquaintance with a female researcher? Does she go by the name of Lilian Blanchette?"

"As a matter of fact she is." Raoul responded. "Why do you ask?"

The girl took off her mask to reveal a face that was almost exactly identical to Lilian's, save for her eyes which were bluish-gray and lacked the mystique and charm of the other woman. "I am Laurette Blanchette- Lilian is my older sister. I've been looking for her for almost two years until I thought I saw her unmasked at this ball earlier tonight."

"She has been friends with my brother for awhile." Raoul admitted as his interest in the girl increased. "Though she never told us she had a family- or at least from what I recall."

Laurette became saddened by this. "Then I was correct- she doesn't want to be found, even by her own sister."

"What do you mean?"

"I'm afraid that's a private matter that only concerns those she is willing to tell." Laurette sharply responded with a scowl before her features softened. "I need to speak with Lilian- I want her to know that I haven't abandoned her, when our family turned their backs on her."

"Well, if you come with me to the grand staircase at around 11:30, you will see her for yourself. I will try to get her to speak with you when she is finished with whatever she has planned."

Time gradually ticked away and the frenzy became wilder and wilder, with almost no sign of stopping, until Christine felt a hand grab her own and she was pulled up towards the grand staircase.

"It's time." Lilian told Christine with a very eager smile.

As Lilian guided her up the stairs, Christine glanced around at each opposing staircase at the top of the grand staircase. Raoul was smiling at her with Philippe at his side, along with the managers and Madame Firmin and a handful of others on one side. For some reason, there was also a young lady right next to Raoul and she was staring at Lilian with great familiarity.

On the other staircase, Christine could see Remy with Angelique, Madame Giry, Madame DuBois with her nephew, and a few other patrons, though one person caught her attention- a female dressed in red, with blue trimming at the bottom and her red hair adorned with a few blue feathers. On her face was a mask with red feathers, but there were glasses over the eye holes and she looked as if she was trying to avoid looking at Christine. Christine realized that it was Fantine, though she wondered why she was here with Lilian in costume.

"Thank you Monsieurs for allowing me to entertain your guests!" Lilian beamed at the managers as the rest of the party goers cleared away to other ends until it was only her and Christine at the top of the staircase. She let go of Christine's hand and turned to glance around at her surroundings, before glancing at Christine one last time with an unreadable expression.

"Mademoiselle Giry!"

Meg turned around in confusion to the source of the hushed voice to find a man dressed with a lion's head and very shabby looking clothing, compared to the other male guests, and he was carrying something about five or seven feet in length that was rolled up in a bag that he had over his shoulder. "Its Darius- I am Nadir's servant! I need to tell you something important!"

"W-what do you mean?" Meg asked as Darius lead her to a spot that was near the staircase, but where they would not be so easily in Lilian's view point.

Finally Lilian turned around and looked at all the faces that were drawn towards her in interest. Satisfied, she began her moment of glory.

"Citizens of Paris!" Lilian joyously addressed the guests as she held her hands out in a welcoming manner. "It is an honor to live in this glorious city! Truly, you all impress me in some way or another and I have requested to entertain you with an unusual story from the research I've done throughout my travels. It is a very interesting story, filled with darkness and wonder- I assure you that some of you will be rendered speechless by the time it reaches it's conclusion."

The bespectacled masquerader- Fantine- let out a quiet, but disgusted snort.

Lilian composed herself and shot Christine a smile, before she began the tale.

"Long, long ago, there was a Shah of Persia- that is, the king of that country which does indeed exist, for those of you who are not aware of it. His family was mighty and yet his people lived in fear of them, as they could be easily angered and could come up with the wildest of punishments imaginable. In his family was a sultana, who happened to be the Shah's favorite member of the family and she was as beautiful as she was feared, for she had a sadistic tendency to see that those who crossed her path would meet unfortunate ends- ends which I'm afraid are too gruesome in detail to mention in this honorable establishment, so I shall spare you."

There was some laughter from this from a few members of the audience.

"One day, an unusual guest came into the Shah's court- a man who had traveled throughout much of Europe, Asia, and India, with many talents to boast of. A highly intellectual being, this man was a master magician as well as a talented assassin. The Shah was impressed by this magician's abilities and asked him to stay in his court, where he could have all that he could ever need or want. Though the magician appreciated the offer, he told them that nothing on earth- not even an emperor or holy man- could grant him what he so desired- something that all of us take for granted.

The Shah told the magician that if he could create a special palace for him, then he would grant him access to divine powers to make his desires a reality. Amused by the offer, but rightfully disbelieving the Shah, the magician agreed.

It took a long time, but the magician was able to construct a castle built entirely of mirrors. Now, this wasn't a castle to live in luxury, but a castle in which to punish many wrongdoers throughout the land, as well as whenever the Royal Family was bored. In the meantime, the magician taught the sultana how to defend herself through a very difficult art that involved killing one without any bloodshed. The sultana not only excelled at this art, but she turned it into a hobby by killing her servants and others out of fun or even boredom."

Christine shuddered at the idea of such a woman.

"Finally the castle was completed- it was filled with horrendous means of torture and the worst of the psychological machinations would even drive the prisoners into taking their own lives. There was no way of knowing how to escape from it's unspeakable machinations and horrors, save by those who built it. The Shah was so pleased that, instead of killing the magician as he had planned, decided to do something rather unusual and bind the magician into a permanent servitude against his will through the same divine means that he would be promised to have access to. The magician was trapped in an inescapable situation, where he was denied the release of death and would endure much misery while he was forced to commit more unspeakable horrors, as well as serve the Royal Family for the rest of his days."

"As for the sultana..." Lilian took a breath. "...She had become so dangerous in her craft that the Shah realized that not only would she try to go after his life and the lives of his other heirs, but she would leave a black stain upon her family's name for many ages. In response, the Shah not only had the magician bind her in a special dungeon within the torture palace, but decreed that her name would no longer be mentioned in Persia, as well as have any trace of her existence erased from history forever."

"And now this is where the story takes an interesting turn!" Lilian clapped her hands. "For eventually the sultana escaped her prison and one day swore her revenge on those who wronged her, as well as declare that she would one day take the throne of her kingdom for herself. The magician was among the many who wronged the sultana, but after many years of searching, she finally found him."

With a dramatic flourish, Lilian pulled out a very familiar looking black bottle from her dress and displayed it out for all to see. "And he is here with us tonight to grace you all with his presence!"

Christine let out a sharp gasp as she recognized Erik's bottle, as well as noticing that the jewels no longer shone in brilliant white, but were an ominous black. "How did you-?"

Before she could finish, Lilian ripped the seal off the bottle, brushed her hand across it, and within seconds a _black_ smoke escaped the bottle.

Christine waited in horror as everyone around her reacted in a naive excitement mixed with nervousness. To them, this was an act, but to her this could be something dangerous. Much like the first time she met the spirit, the smoke extended until it could form something human-like, until it faded away to reveal the person inside.

The robe he wore was still black, but it was shapeless compared to the one he usually wore and a hood had been drawn almost completely over his head. The white shirt was gone and revealed a thin, almost skeletal body- his skin stretched over bones that seemed to jut out and it was covered in scars of varying shapes and sizes.

Christine nervously waited as the others- not realizing what was happening- let out a round of applause. The figure stiffened when he heard the merriment and he slowly reached to his hood to slowly pull it off and see where he was. For the first time in what felt like quite a long time for the both of them, Erik and Christine were seeing each other once more.

Erik's time of imprisonment was all too apparent on the part of his face that was exposed- he looked worn out, his facial features seemed more pronounced than usual and this, combined with the dark discoloration under his left eye, only increased his skeletal appearance. The half mask was no longer white, but pitch black and the darkness from the eye socket almost seemed to merge with the coloring, while the yellow eye within seemed more noticeable. Even his eyes spoke of a weariness and an anger that had been contained inside him for quite sometime, and added to his haunting appearance.

Christine could barely breathe as she pulled her mask off her face and waited for Erik to respond. Would he lash out at her for what they all did to him?

His eyes widened in shock and he was so distracted by Christine that he didn't acknowledge Lilian or that she was pulling something from out of her dress. "Christine?" He simply asked as if he couldn't believe that she was really there.

Without warning, Lilian threw her hand out and two sets of gold chains shot out of her palm, which wrapped themselves around the jinn's wrist.

The moment Erik realized something was wrong, Lilian flung her hand down as the other ends of the chains formed spear-like points that rammed into the floor on either side of Erik, who let out a startled cry when his arms were pulled away from his sides.

Christine could only clasp a hand to her mouth and gasp as others around here also let out surprised sounds. Even Erik himself stared in confusion at the chains. "What is this?!" He demanded as he tried to look around and see how this turn came to be.

"Christine!" Raoul was the first to try to rush to her aid, but Lilian twirled her finger in a circle above her and a burst of flames shot up and blocked off all the ends of the staircases that lead to her and her captives. The guests on the stairs were forced to retreat aways back, but only the bravest- or the dumbest- remained on the staircases. The flames themselves were thick enough to keep anyone from trying to get past them, but they were positioned so that everyone could see what was happening within the ring of fire.

All the gaiety in the audience turned into confusion and slight fear. What on earth was going on?!

"You... you can use magic." Christine realized out loud. Unlike the others, she discovered that what Lilian did was not something that could be done on stage- it was _real_ magic.

Lilian turned to face Christine and Erik; Christine could only stare in shock, while Erik silently observed Lilian, but then he lost his composure and panicked when he saw that his prison was in her free hand.

"And now it's time to take off my mask." Lilian smiled as her hand rose to the chocker on her neck; with a strong tug, the jewelry came off and landed on the floor.

Lilian let out a pleased sigh and closed her eyes has her features began to change. Her skin turned into a light bronze and her facial features became more rounded, though her nose took on a more sharpened look and narrowed a little while her hair changed to raven black. When she opened her eyes to stare at Christine, they were now a lighter shade of brown.

"See?" She gave Christine a seductive grin.

"L-Lilian?" Christine stammered as her mask fell out of her hands.

"No." Christine turned to see that Erik was glaring up at Lilian in bitter recognition. "She goes by a different name and face than whatever she wants you to think."

"It's good to see you again, Master Magician." Lilian- or the person who claimed to be Lilian- greeted Erik with a sinister warmth in her voice as she gave him a mocking bow. "I see you look as hideous as ever, though I suppose being stuck indoors for days on end can do that to you."

"You are not my sister!" Lilian turned to see Laurette, who ripped her mask off and glared in anger at the impostor. "Where is she and what did you do to her?!"

'Lilian' only let out an amused chuckle before she glanced up at her audience.

"Yes, I'm afraid I am not Lilian Blanchette!" She boasted. "The real Lilian is no longer with us, as I took her life away, as well as her name, her wealth, identity, and her maid and her into my own Echo- ah, wait!" Lilian snapped her fingers and turned to Fantine. "I made an error- when I meant to say Lilian Blanchette's maid, I meant _her secret sweetheart_!"

Laurette let out a strangled gasp and clutched a hand over her mouth in horror when she learned of her sister's fate.

Christine briefly glanced to Fantine, whose body was tense and her fists were shaking as she gritted her teeth in anger at the impostor Lilian. She then understood the maid's past behavior and felt a stab of anger at what Lilian had just done.

Lilian wasn't intimidated by the maid's anger- she had suspected that Fantine had been trying to disobey her, so she decided that robbing her of her precious secret was a fitting punishment. "Yes, but trust me when I say that the maid's secret is nothing compared to what we might find out tonight!" Lilian laughed as she turned to Christine as she twisted her fingers at Christine.

From out of nowhere, a set of iron chains wrapped themselves around Christine's torso and legs, as well as her wrists. Before she had a chance to realize what was happening or even try to escape Christine felt herself hoisted up into the air and- with a startled cry- was flipped upside down in front of all of the guests to see.

As Christine's arms were pulled up and forced her into like an unsettling upside down version of a crucifixion pose, she could her people screaming in horror as well as various voices screaming out her name. She herself was terrified- this was the second time in a row she found herself in this sort of predicament, but there was no way to save herself this time.

Now the confusion turned into panic as many of the guests screamed and others tried to escape. They now realized that what was happening was not entertainment, but something that they couldn't possibly comprehend.

"I wouldn't try to leave anytime soon!" Lilian loudly warned over the guests screams as she twirled her finger again. "All exits and entries are sealed off- after all, we are still in the second act of my story!"

Erik felt as if he was going insane as he could not save Christine- something about these chains was preventing him from using magic; it was blocking his flow and access to it. He hated being so helpless and a dark sensation was threatening to escape his being- one move and he would not hesitate to kill the other woman. Nothing in the world could stop him if he ever escaped.

"Don't bother, Master Magician." Lilian told Erik when she noticed the anger in his eyes. "Those chains were made with the same ring you give to your masters to suppress your magical bond. How fitting that its now being used entirely against you."

"Of course I have your little nightingale to thank for it." Lilian walked to Christine to get a look at her and, to Christine's discomfort, the woman began to caress her face. "In fact, I have her to thank for finding you at all. I thought everything about her sounded peculiar and I was able to do some exploring which seemed to confirm my suspicions. Though I admit that when I thought that I was wrong, I became a little rash in my actions."

Lilian summoned out a knife with a casual wave of her hand and grabbed onto it. It was a knife that Christine immediately recognized and had never wanted to see again- it was the knife that was used to stab her.

" _You_!" Christine managed to exclaim in her alarm as she stared at Lilian and began to put the pieces together. "It was _you_!"

Erik understood _exactly_ what Christine meant when no one else did and stared at Lilian with a renewed hatred, as well as a new reason to kill her.

"I thought that I wasted my time on a simple performer when we didn't find the bottle." Lilian confessed. "Then I saw something occurring in that river and then Fantine gave me the ring you possessed. This time we kept a closer eye on you and, to my absolute delight, it turned out that Erik _was_ your slave." She smiled. "We followed your little friend to someone he and I used to know and claimed back what once belonged to me."

She then ripped the tiara off Christine's head and tossed it away before she slowly traced a finger over Christine's lips. "I can see why he's so taken with you." Lilian murmured. "You are certainly pretty in voice and face." She shot Erik a dark look. "Its almost hilariously ironic."

She then moved away and waved her hands- crossing them over before waving them out.

Another chain appeared, but this time it wrapped itself around Christine's neck. The soprano felt the chain pull so hard around her neck that she almost couldn't breathe at first and let out a sharp cry. This cry made Erik thrash in his bonds as he tried to pull free and get to Lilian, but the chains kept him rooted to his spot and he could only move a few steps towards the woman before the chains pulled his arms behind him.

"Don't you _dare_ think of doing it!" Erik snarled at Lilian. "She will not be like your other victims if you are foolish enough to ask for a death wish! If you kill her, you will go next and I promise it won't be painless or swift!"

Lilian sighed as she glanced at Erik. "I was hoping you would beg for her life, but I see you still haven't changed. You still are an arrogant fool, Magician."

"So what will I do to you?" Lilian wondered as she stared at Christine as she held the knife up and began to tap the flat of the blade against her arm. "Merely stabbing you wasn't enjoyable. I could rip you open from abdomen to collar bone and bleed you dry like a pig. I could hang you over my fires... or I could snap your head off."

The chains tightened around Christine's neck. She was only able to let out a choking sound and it felt as if she could pass out at any moment. As she struggled to breathe, she stared at Lilian with wide eyed fear and she could barely make out everyone's horrified reactions or the cries for her name.

"Christine!" Meg turned to Darius, who retained a firm hold on her arms when she first tried to rush to her friend's aid. "You have to let me go!"

"Its too late." Darius regretfully told her. "Unless you can free the jinn without being noticed, you'll suffer a horrible fate by that woman's hand."

"My friend is going to die! We have to do something!"

"That woman has taken the lives of various jinn to add to the power she wished for! You cannot stand a chance against her!"

Meg let out a frantic cry and glanced back to the scene: everyone seemed to be unable to do anything but watch, thanks to the fires that encircled Lilian and her prisoners. She could only imagine the fear running through her mother and Raoul as they watched Christine.

"Then again," Lilian snapped her fingers "I have an even better idea- I could let you live... however..." She gave Christine a smile. "If I say the word, the chains will pass through your neck and instead of taking your life, I will take the only real value you have about yourself."

"Yes," Lilian reached a hand towards Christine's neck. "I'll take your voice away from you and you will never again be able to speak, laugh, or even sing. I'm _very_ tempted to try it." Her smile widened.

"If you want something from me, then just say it!" Erik yelled in frustration. "I know what you are trying to do and why you are doing this, but leave her out of it! She did nothing to deserve this! Touch her and I promise you will die!"

"So you don't want her to suffer for your wrongs?" Lilian moved away from Christine and glanced at Erik, before she became thoughtful. "Hmm... well I might spare her... if she does one simple thing for me.

"Oh, it's nothing painful!" She waved with a reassuring smile. "It's just one very small thing- I want your little nightingale to take your mask off in front of everyone in this room."

Erik froze as Christine's fear briefly turned to puzzlement.

Lilian payed careful attention to Christine's reactions as she nonchalantly continued. "If you don't let Christine do it... then I will have to kill her or do something much worse to her in front of everyone in this room. On the other hand, if _she_ doesn't do it then I kill everyone dear to her- including her fellow performers."

A very tense moment passed as everyone waited to see what would happen. Horror was mixed with confusion- why would the macabre woman demand something so simple in exchange for the singer's life?

"So what will it be- an unmasking as per tradition of this event, or her precious blood upon my hands?"

Erik glanced at Christine's form- he could not see her face, but he could only imagine the terror she was going through. It was his fault that she had to endure the wrath of the former sultana- this was something he worried would have happened, and he was so sure that he was cunning enough to trick her and anyone else who would try to attack him in any way imaginable. Instead the consequences of all his actions- especially of that awful night- brought his downfall and Christine's suffering.

And now, she would have to endure one last horror in exchange for her freedom. It was preferable to watching Christine die, and Erik understood exactly what it was that the other woman wanted through the simple task. She wanted him to be humiliated, but he would endure it for the life of one he cherished above all else. Even above music itself.

"If that is what you desire." Erik lowered his head in defeat.

Christine felt herself being flipped right side up and the chains vanished from all but her neck- though the chains loosened up somewhat- before she was lowered to her ground.

The moment her feet hit the ground, she could barely stand and almost stumbled to the ground like a newborn creature struggling to get on its feet. Erik's bonds were long enough to at least allow him to catch her before she could fall and he held onto her as she struggled to stand until she was able to hold onto him.

Never before had she been so happy to be in his embrace. After those awful few moments that had just passed, it felt like a blessing to be near him again.

Any anger that Erik had towards Christine in the time that he was sealed away was gone. Her safety was all that mattered now, but it had to be bought at a personal cost.

"I didn't mean for it to be like this." Erik whispered to her as he gently held his hand against her head. "I didn't want you to find out the truth in these circumstances."

Christine slowly moved her head up to look in Erik's eyes- they were full of anger but also incredible pain and sorrow. It was as if all his power had been taken away from him and the suffering in the world had been thrust upon him. "Erik..." She pleaded in both confusion and comfort.

He slowly knelt to the ground and Christine was forced to copy his movement. Erik let go of Christine and looked at her with a grim acceptance for the inevitable as she was finally able to stay her ground while kneeling in front of him.

So this was it then- the moment she would see his entire face. She recalled what she saw that he was unable to hide and told herself that it was going to be fine- she was not going to scream her head off like everyone else did during Lilian's reign of terror.

But then why would the truth cause such a strong reaction to those who knew about it? Why did Lilian want Erik to be unmasked? Why was the thought of what she was about to do worrying her so much?

Her heart rate increased as her trembling hands reached towards the half mask. One hand was able to gently hold the left side of his face while the other began to reach for the mask-

Erik suddenly grabbed her wrists.

Lilian frowned and the chain around Christine's neck began to tighten a little.

Erik stared at Christine as she wondered what he was about to do. Everyone else had their eyes on the pair and waited to see what exactly would happen and those who didn't know any better wondered why this one act was so important.

Erik knew that Christine had to know _exactly_ what she was going to see in all its entirety, or else Lilian would further rob him of what dignity he had left. His left hand moved her's to his hairline, so that she would know just how far the illusion went.

Christine almost froze when she realized that she was not feeling his scalp under his hair- whatever Erik was hiding was not just under the mask itself.

Erik let go of her hands and dropped his to the ground, without taking his eyes away from her.

Christine took a deep breath- whatever she was going to see, she would _not_ let herself scream. She looked Erik in the eye as her hand finally grabbed the side of the mask, while the fingers of the other dug into what she had thought was his hair.

Finally, she pulled off the mask and the false hair away and exposed what was underneath it, while at the same time, the chain around her neck vanished.

Those who were witnessing this events at a specific angle were only granted the sight of the fact that the strange man had only a very sparse amount of black and dead white hair that stuck out of his pale head. This was quite unusual to them, but it was nothing compared to those who were granted a sight of the right profile of the man's face.

There was a chorus of horrified gasps and stares of shock, but it was Sorelli who screamed in terror at the sight, while Madame Firmin fainted into the arms of her husband, whose nerves were not quite as rattled. Raoul could only stare wide eyed in surprise as he realized the awful truth of his rival's true appearance.

Meg also saw the horrifying truth and clutched a hand over her mouth as she took a sharp gasp, while Darius could only turn away in pity. "Oh my _God_!"

The chorus of these reactions was the first thing to greet Christine before she could witness the horror herself. The moment her eyes saw the truth, she let out a sharp gasp as her eyes widened and clasped a hand to her mouth, while taking a few steps back away from Erik as both the mask and wig fell from her hands.

What had been hidden underneath the mask was not the face of a human- in fact, it was hard to tell what it was supposed to be at first glance.

A web of angry white and yellowish patches of flesh covered the right side Erik's face from most of his forehead, to just at his upper lip, and it even extended to most of the right side of his head- it was hard to tell if he had been horribly burned and was left with gapping pockets here and there or if his face resembled that of melting wax dripping off a candle.

It also looked as if his right ear was none existent or had at least melted into his skull into the twisted mess of flesh. He lacked a right eyebrow and in it's place was more flesh that had built up above and under his eye, which made it look as if it was almost nonexistent and disappearing into a very darkened socket of purplish black flesh. The flesh of the upper right lip had been pulled up and it looked like it was merging with the excess flesh or scarring, as if his mouth was threatening to become a part of the horrendous disfigurement.

Finally, to complete the grotesque picture, was something that was immediately the most noteworthy of all the features- a dark hole took the place of where Erik's nose should have been and left him without one. This, combined with the way the tissue seemed to be built up on his cheekbone and around his eye, which seemed to be sunken in, gave him the resemblance of a skull.

Christine could do nothing but keep staring- she had seen and heard of many horrible injuries or deformities, but never did she see something as nightmarish like this. She had been too used to Erik's appearance up until now, but now that she was seeing what he _really_ looked like, it was almost as if she was seeing someone entirely different. Even if part of his face was still handsome, the lack of any real humanlike features everywhere else seemed to overpower what normalcy he had.

Erik stared up at her- he knew that there was a chance she would have reacted the way she did, but it still felt painful to behold and see the look in her eyes. What made it worse was that she was not trying to look away and was still transfixed by the sight of him.

This was what he both expected and feared she would do, but this was not how he meant to reveal the truth to her. Not in front of all of Paris, but somewhere isolated and safe.

As the two remained staring at each other, Lilian let out a delighted laugh.

" _She never saw it!_ " She clasped her hands together before she moved to the couple and pushed Christine away. She grabbed Erik and forced him to stand on his feet and gave everyone a better look at his face.

"Behold, Paris!" She yelled as she forced Erik to look out and a series of screaming ran in his ears. "The magician from my story, the one who has given you those anonymous messages, and Christine Daae's secret tutor is nothing more than a living corpse!"

Erik watched as an old scene he never wanted to relive played out before him. All of the guests screamed in horror, many turned away to avoid glancing at the hideous sight, and some who were too faint of heart fainted to the floor. Even those who had seen him before seemed unable to look him in the face. Even those like Lucille, Rosina, or Lady DuBois could not look at him without seeing him like some sort of monster.

Lilian, on the other hand, was enjoying every moment of this. Making Erik suffer was more satisfying than anything she thought possible, and she made sure that she would hold him out as long as she could and let all of Paris see him for what he really was.

Christine had managed to get back up on her knees, but she could not believe what Lilian was doing to Erik when she saw it. Was this the reason why she almost died by her hand- so that she could humiliate Erik in a disgusting display devoid of mercy?

"Stop it!" Christine finally got on her feet and dashed to Lilian. "Let go of him!" She grabbed Lilian's arm and tried to force her to let go of Erik, but the other woman quickly flung Erik aside and spun around to slap Christine right across the face.

"Don't think I'm done with you yet, you little rat!" Lilian snarled as she grabbed Christine by the neck. "You have given me so much trouble that I think a more fitting punishment is at hand for you!"

Lilian waved her hand and Christine became engulfed with a quick flash of light as she felt as if two hands grabbed each side of her dress and tore it off. For one moment, she was sure that Lilian was about to humiliate her in a manner that was much worse than Erik's unmasking, but then something else quickly replaced the dress and she looked down to see that the slave costume from _Hannibal_ had taken its place.

"You may be a queen on stage, but you are nothing but a poor chorus girl without your jinn's aid!" Lilian coldly declared. "To think that you could ever think yourself as anything more is laughable! And so, orphan child of the north, I decree one final gift to you!" Lilian took out the bottle and turned to Erik, who had already forgotten his humiliation when he witnessed what Lilian did to Christine. "You _may_ not be able to kill someone, but there are always holes in the contract- I can't guarantee she will survive my final wish."

Erik could do nothing but watch and wait in helpless anger as Lilian held up the bottle and made her wish for everyone to hear. "I wish for you to send Christine Daae across the great western sea to somewhere far from France, where she will be friendless, alone, and stranded amongst those who do not speak her language for the rest of her days!" She turned her hand and briefly turned the gold chains into iron.

"ERIK, NO!" Madame Giry screamed as she realized that she was about to lose the girl who was like a daughter to her.

"NO!" Raoul almost screamed.

Realizing what was about to happen, Christine pleaded as she turned to Erik. "Erik, please don't do it! Erik!"

Erik could not go back against the wish, as much as he desperately wanted to. It was futile to resist as the need to fulfill the wish was too ingrained into his being to ignore it, as if it were like the need to breathe for air. He closed his eyes as he reluctantly raised his hand out towards Christine.

"Erik, please!"

All the lights in the huge room changed from a soft yellowish white glow to a sinister red and darkened the room. Pandemonium ensued amongst the guests who were still trying desperately to escape, but all the doors were sealed shut. If this didn't cause further alarm, then it was due to a wall of thick black smoke that encircled the jinn and the doomed singer until they were both out of sight.

Meg finally wrenched herself free from Darius's grasp and grabbed the object he was carrying. With no second thoughts in her mind, she ran as fast as she could towards a location that was out of Lilian's sight.

Inside the vortex of smoke, a portal of white light appeared right behind Christine, just as she ran to Erik and grabbed onto a sleeve of his robe.

"I don't want to leave-!" Christine pleaded, but another chain shot out of the portal and grabbed onto her left wrist. A powerful tug pulled at her wrist and she was almost sent flying back, had Erik not quickly grabbed onto her free hand while a chorus of her name was being screamed out by others.

Christine felt as if something was trying to pull her backwards- as if a strong gust of wind was trying to blow her away- and she was trying desperately to stay rooted while Erik seemed to stay in place. Even the ropes of her 'skirt' were tugging straight at the vortex while they were still attached to the bodice of her costume.

Christine glanced up to look at Erik in all his asymmetrical horror, but it was not his face that she was terrified about. She was terrified of not seeing it again, along with everyone else.

"I'm sorry!" She frantically apologized as the chain pulled her closer to the portal. "This was all my fault, Erik! I should have kept my promise! I didn't realize what it was that you wanted until it was too late!"

Seconds later the chain jerked and Christine was pulled closer to the portal. Erik himself was dragged along with her, but he was unable to do anything as the chains around him reverted to gold and held him in place. Unfortunately, Christine lost her footing and another chain reached out of the darkness to latch onto one of her ankles. Her leg was now being pulled towards the portal, while the other one was just barely touching the ground.

Christine was trying her hardest not to cry- this could not be happening to her! Did she really deserve this for her naivety? For her foolishness? She didn't want to leave Paris for another land that she was unfamiliar with. She didn't want to die, and that fear of not knowing where she would be sent was as terrifying as the fact that she would never be able to see Meg, Madame Giry, Raoul, the chorus and the ballerinas- she would never be able to see Erik himself- _ever_ again.

Erik clasped his free hand over hers, though Christine could feel something being put onto her middle finger.

"This was _never_ your fault, Christine." He firmly told her with a weariness in his voice as if he had given up on everything in life. Despite the horribleness of his face and the darker side of his personality, the very human regret he had was overwhelmingly visible in his yellow eyes. " _I_ was the one who wronged you."

Christine pleadingly stared at him. He could see that she didn't care what he looked like, but it was too late to find any comfort in this, nor could he keep her forever. Not when she was at the mercy of another- he had to do the right thing and set her free. At least he knew where he would send her, so that she would be able to have a chance for a future.

"For my sake, find happiness elsewhere, away from these horrors... away from the monster before your eyes."

And so, with painful acceptance, his skeletal hands let go of her hand.

Christine screamed as the chains finally pulled her into the light and she desperately tried to reach out to Erik, until he and the Opera House vanished from sight.

The vortex vanished, as did the smoke, and left behind the jinn, who stared at the spot where Christine had vanished before he collapsed to his knees and held his face in his hands.

All the screaming and the chaos in his ears were nothing to him now. He didn't acknowledge Madame Giry losing her stoic demeanor to a hysterical fit, or Raoul's curses at him. He didn't even realize that amongst the easily frightened guests, only one- Fantine- was looking at him in deep pity. He didn't even know that someone else had vanished into the portal along with Christine- no one did.

Lilian picked up the black half mask and waved her hand over it as she walked towards Erik.

"Your punishment isn't over." She coldly told him. In response, he lowered his hands to the point that his yellow eyes bitterly peered at her through the spaces between his fingers. "I still have one thing I need from you before I can grant you the mercy of death. I'm going to take all my time with you for all the suffering you put me through."

She held up the mask, which was now a full face mask, and knelt down to Erik's level so she could rip his hands away from his face. "I think I'll give this back to you- after all, such a sight is better enjoyed when one isn't exposed to it too often."

She then forced the mask back onto his face.

* * *

 **I have to confess that I was really wanting to get to the part where I could write out how bad Erik's deformity was. Its mainly based off the version from the tour production (and there are images of it online) but I wanted to really take advantage of going to the extremes and taking proper nods to the novel, without the limits of reality.**

 **I personally prefer the makeup from the tour production over the traditional production because not only is it MUCh worse (as in the design is pretty good), but also more believable when its paired with the half mask.**

 **Also, this is where I can say that Lilian is not entirely mine as she IS based off the sultana that's mentioned in the book; It was tricky to keep her true nature and identity a secret and I'm glad I finally got that truth out of the way. I figured that she had to be even worse than Erik, based off what little was said about her.**

 **I don't know how soon I will be updating- March will have to be a Zelda month for me, so I might not start back up again until April.**


	15. Through hell and back

**So did anyone see the Nostalgia Critic's review on the 2004 version? It was really hilarious, though I wish it was a little more straightforward and slightly less of a musical parody. I recommend giving it a look.**

 **Something I did not add in my notes, the last time I updated: Erik DID end up in a series of outtakes for a chapter in my fanfic** _ **Time's Trade**_ **though it did not end well for the fictional version of yours truly. (Its at the end of chapter 15 in the outtakes, if anyone wants to give it a look.)**

 **And uh... that's pretty much it. I have only one reviewer to respond to this time.**

 **Child of Music and Dreams: Well, this is the chapter where we find out who went after her. Its one of the two which is all I can say.**

* * *

 **Chapter 15: Through hell and back**

The first thing she was aware of when she awoke was that she was laying upon a rocky ground and parts of her body were aching from when she first landed in this unfamiliar location. The second was that it there was a chill in the air that made her shiver and long to cover herself up with something warm. The final thing was that she awoke to a pale daylight sky that almost blinded her and when she was finally able to adjust her vision, she saw that she was in some sort of forest.

With a groan, Christine struggled to push herself up and wobbled when she struggled to stand. If it wasn't for the nearby tree that she was able to prop herself against, she was sure that she would have fallen back down in an undignified manner. When she rested herself against it and took enough time to gain her bearings, she could finally feel the wave of emotions that hit her.

She was entirely alone–banished to another part of the world that she couldn't identify.

What was happening back at the Opera House? What would happen to the people she left behind? Where _was_ she?

"Hello?" Her voice came out in a desperate croak. She gulped and tried again. "Hello?!"

There was no response.

Having no idea as to what she could do, Christine pushed herself away from the tree and began to walk through the forest. She called out "Hello?!" in every language she knew and began to rub her arms when the cold began to seep into her skin.

She was terrified since she had no idea what she would come across or if she could ever find civilization. If Lilian had wanted her to suffer then she accomplished that goal in a spectacular manner; she truly felt like she was the only one in the world.

She had nothing left to hold dear from her old life–not even her locket, which had been the cause of all this to begin with.

She slammed the side of her fist into a tree at this realization. What kind of sick joke was this?! Was she not supposed to have happiness? Was this punishment for relying on the supernatural to further her career?

Or was this really all her fault, no matter how much they all told her otherwise?

After a few moments of aimless wandering, she heard a sound and turned around in alarm to see a shaking motion in the bushes that were not far away. "H...hello?!" She tried again. The shaking increased and for one moment she believed that her salvation was at hand.

That is until a bear that was twice her size came stumbling out of them.

She stopped breathing and froze with fear as the bear turned to look at her. She had never seen a bear before, but she had heard enough to know that they were not a creature to mess around with and to avoid if one valued their life. Judging by the snarl with the teeth sticking out of its mouth and the irritated sound it made, the creature did not seem all too excited to see her. In fact, it looked ready to attack her; all it would take was possibly thirty or forty feet of distance for it to cross over and strike.

 _Father in Heaven please protect me!_ Christine prayed as her body shivered in the cold and in fear of what was to come. The bear slowly came lumbering its way towards her and she shut her eyes.

Moments later, she felt something knock into her from the side and she tumbled onto both something she couldn't identify and something that felt like someone holding onto her for dear life.

She didn't dare open her eyes as the wind rushed against her, but the person who held onto her let out a sigh of relief as the tree tops went flying past her. "Oh thank God!"

Christine opened her eyes in shock to see Meg beaming at her with a terrified look still in her eyes. "Meg?!" How on earth was Meg here with her? Only she alone was sent into that gateway to this horrible place.

"We came to save you!" Meg told her.

"What do you mean-?" Christine looked around but when she looked down she saw the reason why Meg was here, as well as why it appeared that they were flying over the tree tops–they were sitting upon some sort of enchanted carpet that was big enough to fit the both of them.

Christine chose not to ask any more questions and just accepted it. What was the point anymore?

"Do you remember when I told you about Darius?!" Meg asked. "He said that this carpet was enchanted but he couldn't say why it was. When I saw what was about to happen to you, I took it from him and escaped into that cloud when the others weren't looking!"

"Why?!" Christine was horrified. "If Lilian had seen you-"

"Because I'm your friend and its my fault for not telling you what I knew when I had the chance!" Meg grabbed her shoulders. "I'm not going to let you be banished and stuck in heaven knows where without a friend!"

Christine had no idea what to do or say, but she could only reach out and hug her friend in deep appreciation.

* * *

They finally arrived at a city near the ocean. Christine had to wrap the carpet around herself as a means to protect herself against the whether and stay warm, but the fact that both of her and Meg were in costumes that revealed more than what was deemed proper drew unwanted attention. It was one thing to reveal so much flesh and to reveal one's legs without a dress on stage, but it was deemed improper in the public. Many citizens turned their noses up in disgust, some just stared, but there were a few that let out a whistle at the sight of the girls and called out to them in a language they didn't understand.

Fortunately Meg was able to quickly resolve the matter of Christine's lack of proper attire. One very carefully planned distraction and a theft from one of the nearest buildings was all it took for her to find a large coat for the barely clothed young woman.

"It has a faint smell of alcohol on it, but here you go." She handed the coat to Christine, who gave her a look of mixed reactions. "Look, it's the best that I could do!" Meg argued as she shoved the garment into Christine's arms. "There's no money to our name at the moment, you need it more than he did, and we've allowed the possibility of theft for personal gain for the last three years. This is nothing compared to what's been happening lately."

Christine put the coat on; it did have a faint smell of something that Angelique would have kept stored away in the dormitory and it was long enough to go past her fingers, but it was better than nothing at this point and it provided some protection against the cold and prying eyes. "I wish it hadn't come to this." She sighed as she rolled the sleeves up until they went around her wrists. To stoop so low as to start stealing to survive was something she wanted to avoid when she was poor, and now it was happening whether she wanted it or not. What was worse was that this served as a reminder that she had no money to her name in her current state and nothing of value to sell off.

"Unfortunately, I'm sure were long past the point of no longer being saints." Meg hugged the now rolled up carpet against her and crossed her legs as she rested against a wall.

Unfortunately, neither of them could understand what language was spoken in this town, save for a few words. A simple word or two gave away the fact that they were in an English speaking country, but both girls only knew a few words and their meanings. Despite their best attempts, no one could understand their French or the Swedish language that Christine still retained, and what little English the young women did know was not enough to find someone who could help them. To make matters worse not only were they able to identify which country they were in, but they were also able to figure out where they were in said country thanks to a few signs.

"He sent you across America and all the way to _San Francisco_?!" Meg shrieked as she threw her hands up as her frustration kicked in. "Why couldn't it have been on the eastern coastline or in Canada where they actually speak our language! How did he expect you to make a living here?! Go mining for gold in the hills when its probably all taken by now?!"

Christine had nothing to say as Meg continued to vent and walked to an alleyway that was within Meg's line of vision. She herself was upset to learn that she had been sent too far away from any place where she could be able to support herself in the way that she knew. She was more than hundreds of miles away from Paris, and who knew what on earth was happening back there.

Her thoughts turned back to those they left behind. She could only imagine how horrified Madame Giry was and how much worse it would become for her when she discovered that Meg was missing. Poor Raoul was probably distraught after seeing that he was unable to save her again and she worried for him.

Then there was one more person who she was especially worried for. She could not imagine what Lilian had in mind for him after what she made him do.

"Erik." Christine sighed as his face came to her mind. However, it was a vision that was tarnished now that she knew what was under the mask he wore and the face that she was used to seeing had been replaced with that horrifying visage that she had uncovered for all to see. Certain details were blurry, but she knew what the overall image looked like and what was twisted and lacking that separated his face from that of any ordinary man.

So that was the face that she and Meg had been curious about. The face that she was so close to kissing that one night.

She now understood why he had always made it a point to hide it, even when they knew each other for years. She supposed that she would have done the same if she were in his position, but this knowledge added to her questions. How did his face come to be that way? Was it an injury, or a curse, or was it always like that?

She held her face in her own hands until she felt something around her left ring finger and pulled it away to reveal a very familiar ring was around it–it was Erik's ring with the stone upon it. The one that he almost always wore for as long as she could remember.

As Meg continued to vent out her anger at Erik, Christine touched the ring and brushed her finger against the stone.

And without warning, everything turned to white in her eyes and she quickly shut them as she felt the cold air vanish to be replaced with a warmth that she desperately craved. Under her eyelids, the light dimmed and she allowed herself to open her eyes once again.

When her vision was restored to normal, she found herself transported into some sort of strange chamber that seemed cross between a cathedral or castle, with several musical instruments cluttering and yet carefully placed within it. Sheet music was sprawled upon the ground and a stained glass window was the only source of light, while a massive organ rested underneath it.

"Wha-what is this?" She asked as she looked around in alarm. "Meg?!"

" _What you see before you is a recording of a moment in the past."_ Christine turned around to face Erik; he was dressed in casual clothing and yet there was an air of solemnness about him that seemed both formal and yet very human like. He was also wearing the mask that hid the deformity upon his face. This knowledge robbed him of his enigmatic persona while at the same time the contrast between this version of him and the version who revealed his true features was slightly jarring to the point that it almost seemed that those two versions were not the same.

He did not seem to notice that she was in the same room with him and he seemed to be staring at his organ instead of her. "Erik." Christine whispered before Erik continued.

" _If you are seeing this Christine, then that means I completely trust you. However I am also aware that there may be a chance that I have given you this ring because something has happened to you."_ A pain flashed in Erik's yellow eyes as the thought occurred to him. _"On the other hand, something may have happened to me and I am unable to be in a position to help you anymore."_

" _This ring that I have given you contains power that I have gradually placed within its stone throughout my years as a jinn. It will contain enough magic to be the equivalent to three wishes- possibly six if the wishes are relatively small."_ He momentarily broke off as he pondered the possibility of such a thing. At that moment Christine moved in closer towards him and reached out to touch his face. It was one of these moments were he felt more believable- more ordinary and not some powerful being who could do whatever he pleased. It was a moment where she could see the real him- the version of Erik that she was drawn to- hiding behind his supernatural and genius airs.

Despite everything that happened between them, a part of her desperately wanted to see him again and she wanted to apologize for what she had been forced to do to him.

He shook his head and continued his instructions, which made Christine pull her hand back.

He took a sigh and glanced to the window. _"We are alike and yet we are too different to be together. I want you to be happy and if it were possible, I would die for you to ensure that you could have that. I hope that in the time that we have known each other that you-"_ He shut his eyes as he took a deep breath and let out his final confession, which contained a pure tenderness, while holding a note of sorrow as it came out as something between a prayer and a plea.

" _Christine I love you."_

All turned white again and Christine was forced to shield her eyes.

Moments later she found herself laying on the ground with Meg carefully kneeling over her.

* * *

"So what do we do?" Meg asked after Christine relayed what had happened to her as they sat upon the ground. Both girls stared out at the city which felt too unfamiliar with little to no sense of security for them.

Christine glanced at Erik's ring on her finger as Meg continued to ponder their choices. "We are so far away from home; so far from mama and our friends and family. There's nothing for us here in America unless we wish to find a suitable city and make a name for ourselves. We both have enough talent to make a decent living, but..."

"But what about the people we left behind?" Christine finished. "Lilian trapped all of the Opera House with her, along with a number of citizens and Erik himself. There's no telling what she will do to them all while we are trapped here. You saw what she did to me... what she did to Erik." Her voice trailed off as she drew her knees towards her body and wrapped her arms around them. "She overpowered him like it was nothing. If someone can stop Erik, then that person could be a danger to everyone else."

The girls sat there, contemplating about the fates of everyone. The ballet, the chorus, the patrons, the scene changers, the management, the citizens- what would happen to them all?

"We have to go back." Christine firmly spoke out. "This was all my fault, no matter what everyone says. I have to fix this and save them all."

She held her hand up and looked at the ring. "Erik may have given me something for my benefit, but I have a feeling we can use it against Lilian. All we have to do is go back, find out what happened, and try to stop her. She was able to seal off Erik's powers and we can find a way to do the same to her."

Meg stared at Christine before smiling. "Well I'm going with you."

"Are you sure?" Christine asked. "I've put you through so much because of finding the bottle three years ago. You deserve a chance to start over-"

"I have stuck with you for a long time." Meg reminded her. "I followed you to the bowels of the Opera House and to America, and I sealed away a powerful entity to protect you. If you think I should abandon you now, then what kind of friend am I? Plus I can't let my mother be in the hands of that horrible woman–I already lost a father and a sister. I don't want to lose my mother too."

Christine gave Meg a smile of thanks and a nod of understanding before resuming their plan.

"Now its a matter of getting back." Christine thought aloud. "Except we have no idea which way is Europe and we can't use the ring if we want to try to take back the Opera House."

"I suppose we would need to head east." Meg tried to recall what little she knew. "It would take months to get back, but we won't have enough time for that. We have both a country and an ocean to cross and both are known to be very large." Her eyes glanced towards the carpet. "Unless we can use this to our advantage."

"I would give it a try for a few hours." Christine agreed. "Though I don't think it can travel across the world within the amount of time we must have left."

* * *

About fifteen minutes later, both young women were trying to hold onto the carpet for dear life as it sped across the American landscape at a pace that neither of the girls were familiar with and both had only just managed to fight of the nausea that had developed from this.

"My fists are getting sore from holding onto this thing and I still can't trust myself to let go!" A terrified Meg was almost crying as she hung on for dear life.

"Where did you say Darius found this carpet?!" Christine asked as she tried not to look over the carpet and see the land speed past her (and thus increase her chances of becoming ill.)

"I don't know and I don't want to know!"

* * *

The journey that was taken to return back to Paris took nearly more than two days and a few stops, but it was a trip that both girls agreed to never speak about to anyone else besides those who could understand the circumstances. By the time the reached the outskirts of the city, both girls had enough traveling by carpet to last them a lifetime. (Especially non stop across a vast ocean, where stopping was not an option and their was little to do but converse about various topics.)

"So now what?" Meg asked Christine as she hugged the carpet to her body while they stared at the buildings in the distance. The sky was full of dark clouds as far as the eye could see, but it looked more like it could potentially rain, rather than something that could signify the abnormal.

"So far everything seems normal." Christine noticed. "It doesn't look like Lilian has done anything peculiar with our city." Both girls had already discussed the possible outcomes of what Lilian could have done after she banished Christine.

"We should take a look." Meg placed a hat that she had 'found' during the return back on Christine's head to help hide her face from view. "Though who knows if anyone is looking out for us."

Strangely enough, nothing seemed out of place in the heart of the city either. Everything looked exactly like as if it were a normal day in the city, though there were far less people out and about the streets.

"Excuse me?" Meg walked up towards a nearby gentlemen who was looking at a newspaper. "Has anything strange happened in this city lately? My friend and I haven't been here for awhile."

"No but if you were here for the Masquerade, then I'm afraid you were a few days late for that." He looked at Meg's costume with mild curiosity.

"About that," Meg continued nervously. "Has... has anything happened to the Palais Garnier?"

"The Opera House? Its been closed to the public since the party." The man shrugged.

When Meg relayed this information to Christine, both girls headed towards the Opera House, only to find something that neither were expecting.

The whole building had lost all of its coloring as if something drained it out and took away its soul. Gone were the greens, the golds, and the tans and instead there was nothing but a stone cold gray upon every inch of its surface. To make matters more confusing, the building displayed signs indicating that it was closed for repairs near the entryways. Whatever had happened, the change to the building was so drastic that it left the young woman with a strong sense that something was incredibly wrong.

"Excuse me, Madame?" Christine walked to a nearby woman as she pulled the brim of her hat slightly over her face to keep it out of view. "What happened to the Opera House? Why does it look as if someone renovated the exterior?"

The woman gave the building a glance. "It looks the same as it usually does to me." She said before she continued along her way.

Both girls repeated the question to more citizens but they could not see what they did. To them, the building had remained unchanged and they assumed that both girls had gone mad. Confused as to what was going on, Meg and Christine retreated from the Opera House and headed towards the nearest alleyway that was not in view of their home.

"Why is it that only we can see it, but others can't?" Meg wondered. "It should be so obvious to anyone who can see it- its not that hard to avoid."

"Unless we've already been exposed to the supernatural to the point that we can be able to see it as clear as day." Christine considered. "That or Lilian is deliberately trying to hide whatever is going on inside. In that case, we can't go inside the Opera House through the front entrance or through the other entrances." She realized. "And if we did and she realized that I'm back, she would probably try to kill me."

"And there's no telling what she's doing to everyone, if she hasn't already done something by now." Meg bit her lip as she began to think about her mother. "We've been gone for three days, everyone believes that we are gone forever, if not dead, and I have a strong feeling that Lilian is not above torturing for fun."

"If that's the case, then why would she still be here?" Christine wondered. "What could we have left that would keep her from leaving?"

And then it hit her.

"Erik!" Her eyes widened. "She said she wants to take revenge upon her kingdom, but she chose to use her last wish to send me away instead of using it for that alone! She did it to make him suffer and the reason she made me go through that torture and forced me to take his mask off in front of everyone was to torture and humiliate him! She's probably not done with him!"

"She was also able to suppress his power, so there's no telling what she can do with him." Meg also realized.

"And there is no telling what she will do to this city when she is done with him! She can't possibly try to take back a whole country on her own!" She gave a frantic glance back to the entrance of the alleyway that lead to the Opera House. "We have to get in and stop her, but how can we do that?! There has to be a way in without her noticing!"

"Actually there is." Meg recalled something Nadir once told her. "But first we need to stop by Nadir's flat."

* * *

An hour later, both young women were standing at a gated entryway on the Rue Scribe. Beyond this gateway was nothing but stone walls and pitch black darkness, yet the girls were prepared for what was to come. The sky was beginning to darken to signify that night would come within a few hours, and yet it was a warning for what they were about to face.

"I always wanted to try one of these things!" Meg let out a nervous giggle as she eyed one of two pistols that she and Christine found in the flat, along with a couple lanterns and a few other badly needed provisions. Christine herself carried one such pistol in the pocket of her stolen coat, but she hoped that there would not have to be a need for it. (There certainly wasn't a need for the hat, which she had stuffed away as a pre-caution.)

Although a part of her wished deep down from the bottom of her heart that both of them could have had the luxury of a real bath and a proper change of clothing. Wearing the slave girl costume for more than a few hours was a torture in itself, but neither of them could find anything in Nadir's flat that they could wear. It had appeared that an open flat equaled quite a lot of 'finding' to those desperate enough to do so since the girls last came to pay a visit.

"I once hoped that we would never have to go through this again and yet here we are, about ready to go through the bowels of the Opera House and ready to face more unholy terrors." Meg sighed as she reached for the handle of the gate. "But I suppose its unavoidable, given the circumstances."

"Sorry." Christine let out a well meaning chuckle as the memories of that day came back to her. It was surreal–to think that the journey they made then, just to retrieve her locket, would lead to a second journey to try to save those who were currently trapped in the Opera House.

 _I'm coming for you._ She thought. _Just hold on for a little longer–I promise I'll save you._

Soon Christine was able to get the lantern alight while Meg was able to open the gate. Once the ballerina was able to light up her lantern, both girls were able to enter through the gate.

"Together?" Christine asked as she offered her hand as soon as they were a few feet within the tunnel.

"Through hell and back." Meg determinedly accept the hand and held onto it as tightly as she could. Christine gave her friend's hand a reassuring squeeze before facing the darkness and held her lantern out in front of her.

Knowing that they may not survive the day, but knowing that they at least had each other, the girls were ready to brave the underworld to save those they cared about and walked into the darkness hand in hand.

* * *

 **...And then I realized the irony of Meg being excited over a gun.**

 **I know that forcing Christine near San Francisco should have been predictable, given that was where I saw this musical, and I wanted to send her to Sweden instead, but when I thought of Lilian's mentality, I figured I would want Christine as far from her comfort zone as possible if I were her. I also didn't think I'd throw the carpet in, but it looks like I was able to. I didn't want to do a 'Whole New World' sequence but it looks like both Christine and Meg ended up getting it as an epic BFF moment.**

 **ALTERNATIVELY: Christine and Meg COULD have made it to Paris in one day, but then they had a whacky adventure across most of the Northern Americas.**

 **OR: Christine was sent to the state of Oregon instead of California. Except its the fictional version of the state of Oregon where Gravity Falls exists and she and Meg get into even more shenanigans that are also Disney related.**

 **...I was binge watching Gravity Falls when I was sick awhile ago. Its an awesome show, so I couldn't resist making the joke.**

 **So I'm aiming to finish this within three chapters- two if I'm feeling ambitious enough, though it will take time if I take that approach. I have taken to updating once a month in order to balance out whats going on on my side of things. For those of you who have stuck around to this point, I thank you and I promise I will make the next wait worth it.**


	16. Angel of Music Vs Angel of Death (pt 1)

**Sorry it took so long. I had to finish the newest chapter of Hyrule Warriors Warped in time for its one year anniversary and I had to plan this chapter out carefully because I thought it would go one way and then I wanted it to go another way instead. I'd elaborate, but I can't at this moment.**

 **Also, it gets a little violent in the middle of this chapter. Just thought I'd warn you.**

* * *

 **Chapter 16: Angel of Music Versus Angel of Death (part 1)**

 **A few weeks ago**

" _Excuse me sir," Lilian approached a stagehand who was inspecting some written procedures in his notes for the current opera production. "Do you mind if you could spare me a moment or two? I would like to know if anything unusual has happened within this establishment."_

" _There always is." The man grunted as he he looked up from his notes. "Could you be more specific Mademoiselle? You aren't a reporter are you? Or an inspector? We were never alerted about that beforehand."_

" _Oh, I would just like to know if there have been any strange activity that could seem... otherworldly or supernatural. The stuff of fairy tales or ghost stories." Her eyes glanced down at the notes and saw one that stuck out to her the most since it was written in red ink with the penmanship of a child. "What is that?" She pointed to the note._

" _Well, I suppose there's your example of something unusual that's been happening." The stagehand looked at the note. "Someone has been telling the performers how to do a better job and how we stagehands and costumers could improve what we do for the shows for the past three years. No one knows who sends them and–get this–they ask the managers to pay him more than what most of us get in half a year."_

" _I see..." Lilian examined what was written in the note for a bit longer before continuing. "Is there anyone who has been acting out of place?" She asked. "As in speaking to themselves or have a sudden change in behavior?"_

" _We all talk to ourselves at some point." The stagehand huffed with amusement. "Just awhile ago the young ladies joked about how little Meg Giry was arguing with herself. It made for a good chuckle but that's about it."_

 _Lilian hesitated for a moment. She could talk to this Meg Giry girl but it would increase suspicion- especially if she was correct about who she was looking for. There was still no guarantee that Daae was the current mistress, but if it was this other girl than there would be trouble. She would have to do a little more careful observing and inquiring and she would have liked to learn more from the managers and the current Soprano who Daae had briefly replaced without any warning. She could probably get more out of La Carlotta if she approached her in the correct manner, but the managers would probably not keep the events of a meeting to themselves. This would especially apply to this stage hand–oh well, it looked like she could try to loosen his lips a bit for any more information._

" _You know, there's a secret room in this place that few know about." Lilian smiled charmingly at the man and pulled a small flask out of her bag along with a few francs. "Perhaps if you can supply me with more information, I could offer you something for your troubles. Say make up for an hour's worth of wages?"_

 _The man hesitated and glanced down at his notes before looking at Lilian, who flashed another charming smile at him. To her good fortune the man had fallen to the temptation of what she had to offer as he set aside his notes and said "Well I suppose taking a break early wouldn't cause any harm."_

" _No I suppose it wont." Lilian chuckled as her free hand went back in the bag and her fingers brushed against a cord that was waiting to be used. She couldn't wait to use it again ( or watch him see his demise reflected several times over in the mirrors of the torture chamber.) but she had to be patient so she lead the man away from his position._

 _She would be able to pull this off- she was trained by an Angel of Death after all. There was no man or woman who could surpass her and none ever would if everything fell into place for her._

" _Thank you Monsieur–?"_

" _Bouquet. Joseph Bouquet."_

* * *

Christine remembered the horrors from the last time she was down here in the cellars with Meg and yet those seemed tame in comparison to this second journey. This time there was no telling how far Lilian's reach went throughout the Opera House and the singer suspected long ago that Lilian would have been drawn to the horrors of the cellars.

Luckily Meg still had the carpet in her possession if they needed to make a quick escape. She carried it in a bag that was hung over her shoulder and one hand held onto that of Christine's, while the other held her own lantern.

The two lights that each girl held onto was the only source of comfort in the dark, but they were afraid that the light would show them something quite horrific. The ghost stories and the horrors of the Commune from so many years ago already made this place a sinister area to visit and the horrors they encountered before did not help their sense of ease. Also it was cold and the lack of warm clothing made everything that much more unbearable.

They dared not look back- not even when the daylight from outside and beyond the gate had vanished altogether. Darkness had swallowed them and light reflected upon the stone walls and floor until it finally bounced off the waters that would lead them to the lake. Eventually they came upon the very lake itself where their fortune changed for better or worse. It may have been a trick of the mind but it appeared that they could not see the other side of that large, black body of water.

Christine glanced to where she knew where the staircase was located and pulled Meg along. As she struggled to peer through the darkness beyond the lantern she felt Meg's hand tighten around her own and she squeezed it back in reassurance. She was not afraid of this place once before–she had to remind herself of this. She could just make an outline of the staircase and was about to thank the heavens when a strange sound met her ears.

It was faint but it sounded like someone was murmuring and it was not from Meg. She stood her ground and cautiously looked around for the voice until the murmur turned into familiar singing–

–And it was _her_ voice that was singing.

"Christine," Meg's voice came out in a tiny whisper. "Are... are you doing that?"

Christine turned and opened her mouth to speak, but it felt like something was tightening her throat and she could only make out a strange airy sound.

"Christine?" The singing was getting louder as the girl's eyes widened in confusion.

She had no clue what was happening but she didn't want to take any chances; Christine pulled on Meg and ran towards the staircase. The singing increased in volume until it sounded as if it was coming somewhere within the lake and demanding Christine to look but she forced herself to keep going. She knew stories of sirens and she knew enough to believe that something similar was occurring at that moment.

The moment they reached the staircase and found themselves already running up the steps, the singing stopped and that strange sensation in Christine's throat had vanished, though the former created an errie silence that was marred by frantic feet scampering upward towards safer ground.

"Oh Christ, oh Christ." Meg swore when they reached the next level.

"What just happened to me?" Christine tried to speak and was able to do so to her great relief. "It was like–"

"—Your voice was stolen." Meg finished. "What in the–"

"A siren's voice." Christine told Meg her theory. "Lilian must have set a trap and took my voice to make it work. And if we obeyed it then we would have been drowned."

Meg let out an anxious sigh and let go of Christine's hand to run her own hand over her face. "What else is down here?"

A strange scratching noise met their ears. It was a sound that they hadn't heard in quite some time and it made the ballerina cringe. "Oh right... the rats."

"Except that sounds a bit too loud to be rats." Christine glanced around and aimed the lantern to try to find them. What she met instead almost made her gasp and Meg turned around to take a look.

Oh there were rats alright–rats that had somehow grown to the size of a large dog and were scurrying about their way and paying the girls no mind.

In her panic, Meg let out a curse that would have earned her a slap from Madame Giry and took out her own pistol. She let out high pitched whimpers as she aimed the gun at the overgrown pests and backed away into the wall. "Why?! Just _why_?!" The gun rattled in her shaking hands which made Christine very uneasy.

"Save your ammo until it tries to attack!" She pleaded as she kept a careful eye on the weapon. "Use them only when necessary!"

"I'm never coming down here again! I mean it!" Meg was on the verge of tears as she struggled to put the pistol away while slowly moving up the steps of the staircase. Christine gave the girl a reassuring hand as they headed upwards, but she felt that perhaps they could both be a danger to each other if they weren't careful. (Though she was glad to be rid of those rats when they had the chance.)

Nothing eventful happened on the next flight up. It was the next one that made Meg sharply gasp and tighten her grip onto Christine's hand until it felt as if she was about to crush her fingers. Christine only took one look to understand what caused this reaction and it made her freeze with horror. Of all the things they had experienced thus far, this one was the most graphic and violent of them all.

Hanging from unknown means of support from the ceiling by ropes and cords were at least five corpses. All of them varied in their state of decay and were perfectly motionless, but the worst part was not the fact that they were dead but that some of them were familiar to the girls. Meg especially recognized one corpse and let out a cry of shock mixed with grief. "Monsieur Bouquet!"

Indeed, the chief scene shifter who had gone missing for awhile was amongst the dead and looked a little more sunken in than the others.

Christine saw another victim and also recognized him. "The coachman!" The poor man still looked as he did the last time she saw him. Her fear changed to anger as she realized the awful truth. "These poor souls must have been Lilian's victims! None of them deserved any of this!"

"But _why_?" Meg wondered aloud as she stared at Bouquet before shuddering. "Why could she have done this?"

Christine could once again see the faces of those they left behind and tried her hardest not to think too much on this. Everyone still alive depended on them to save them all.

 _Why_ would Lilian go to this extent? Was this to warn any who tried to escape this place or was it for something much worse?

"Let's move on." Her voice came out in a stammer as she grabbed Meg's sleeve and pulled her away. Both girls cautiously hurried away from the area as fast as they could and never once looked back.

Christine began to recall something that Lilian had said before she revealed her true self at the Masquerade. According to her story, Erik was the one who taught her how to do this to others.

What scared her was that she was able to believe that this was possible. Then again why on earth should it surprise her?

What was worse was that she had no idea how she could stop Lilian and there would be a very good chance that Lilian would kill her in that exact same fashion as the others.

After a few unsettling moments, the two had finally made it to the next floor. As they searched around to make sure that there wouldn't be another nasty surprise, Christine saw something that actually made her reach into her pocket for the pistol and pulled it out in her already fragile state of alarm.

"Don't come any closer!" She yelled at a lone, familiar shadowy figure in the darkness that had been responsible for her and Meg discovering the secret mirror room from so long ago- the one known by some as simply the shade.

"We're both armed!" Meg added as she also aimed her gun at the shade, who slowly began to walk towards them. "What if he's on Lilian's side?!" Meg whispered to Christine. "You have three seconds to turn around and stop!" Meg warned the shade as she glanced back to him. "One! Two! Th-!"

"Wait!"

Both girls saw a figure dressed in a costume that was disheveled, torn, and dirty, come running from down the hallway and held a hand up in protest. "Stop, they might not be what they seem!"

"Rosina?" Christine stared in bewilderment as she lowered her pistol while Meg copied the same movement.

The shade obeyed Rosina's command as the girl hurried towards Christine and Meg. The young woman looked fatigued and had darkness in her eyes. "Is it really you two?" Rosina demanded as she stopped in between her fellow performers and the shade. "Which one of us was taken by Erik to give her blood to Christine?"

"Y...you?" Christine asked. The other girl let out a sigh of relief. "I was afraid that you might be an illusion; you have no idea what horrors have occurred in this place. How were you able to come back? I thought that woman killed the both of you."

"What has happened since we left?" Christine asked.

"Where is my mother?" Meg demanded.

"Unfortunately..." Rosina's voice wavered as a haunted look came in her eyes.

"What? What happened to my mother, Rosina?!"

"The woman who sent you away sealed everyone inside the building and anyone she deemed to be too boring or annoying was–well, you'll find out soon enough if you are trying to do something about it. I would advise against it and turn back, but its possibly too late at this point." Rosina sighed. "She's taken all of the ballerinas and forced them to dance for her without stopping and curses them back to stone when she's done, and that's not even the worst that she's done so far. I was able to avoid her because I was able to escape the Masquerade when you were sent away."

"And why is she still here?" Christine pressed.

"She–" Rosina nervously gripped her hands together "–She wants to absorb some sort of essence or power from your voice teacher. She says that she wants to drain him and his power to add to her own to use as she pleases. Apparently it takes a long time for such a thing to happen but she's also spent some of her time here torturing him too. He wasn't very resistant about it from what I saw."

"But that might kill him!" Christine let out a horrified gasp that made Rosina give the girl a knowing look. No matter what had happened, a part of her still deeply cared for Erik. "And how exactly is she doing this?" She demanded.

"This might be a guess, but I think it has something to do with the mask she forces him to wear." Rosina voiced her observations. "Its this full face black mask that he almost always wears until she takes it off to try to scare the dancers or to put it on her own face. She usually wears an identical mask when this happens and she seems to enjoy it whenever she does so."

"So if we can take that mask away from her and destroy it then perhaps the powers it absorbed can transfer back to the original owner." Meg wondered.

"Except she'll know if you try to take the mask off and she wont hesitate to harm you if you try to take it from her." Rosina told her. "Not only that but there are parts of the building that have triggers to set off traps if you try to escape from her–especially in the theater. You can not be able to reach her through the front entrance or from backstage."

This was not reassuring, but it gave Christine an idea.

"I think there is still a way." She eyed the carpet in Meg's bag. "What about the boxes? We could use those to our advantage."

* * *

After the girls carefully went over a plan to reach Lilian they parted ways while the shade was left to do as he pleased since he posed no threat to them. However he silently followed the youngest of the three girls and as eerie as it appeared to be, the others came to the assumption that perhaps he was also a lucky escapee who was looking out for Rosina.

"Though I do wonder who that was or how on earth Rosina was able to ally herself with him." Christine glanced back in confusion. "We never did find out who it is that patrols the lower levels of the Opera House. Not even the stagehands know who he or she is."

"Perhaps we'll find out when we put an end to this." Meg suggested.

Upon finally reaching the ground floor of the Opera House, Christine and Meg soon learned that the interior of the Opera House had changed as much as the exterior–it seemed that no matter where they looked they could only see that the once familiar hallways had multiplied and extended out into eternity.

Just when it seemed that everything had become much more complicated, Meg cautiously walked outward towards one of the many hallways until she felt herself collide against an invisible wall. She backed away and placed a hand upon it. "It feels like glass."

"Or perhaps its really a mirror." Christine glanced around. "Perhaps its to confuse anyone who escapes from her. I can barely recall where to go now that everything looks exactly the same."

And unfortunately this was the very problem that the two both had. They tried their best to recall the pathways of the Opera House and had to rely on their instinct instead of their eyes. They were able to make some progress but it was time consuming and when they were finally able to maneuver out of the hallways and corridors, they were able to enter the more opulent but even more complex hallways at the front end of the building. These hallways also seemed to extend outward and the gilded and shimmering details of the hallways made the overall effect as overwhelming as it was beautiful.

Their nerves were getting the best of them as they both considered the notion that perhaps their opponent had laid traps in these halls and the mere thought of receiving death upon trying to feel their way out was enough to keep them from relying on anything but faith itself. Eventually they came to the hallways were they could see the night sky looming from behind the windows, which gave them an idea of how close they were to the front area of the Opera House.

Finally they found themselves in the main lobby where they found a haunting sight.

The first thing they saw was that the whole area was filled with marble statues shaped like people, but a closer inspection revealed that they looked exactly like the party goers from the masquerade as they were wearing familiar costumes. The second thing they noticed upon fully entering the lobby was that the interior had changed as the walls and the ceiling had been turned into mirrors while the flooring and the staircase had taken on darker hued colors. Much like the exterior of the Palais Garnier, all the inviting warmth of this once magnificent room had been sapped away.

"These are the guests from the masquerade." Christine carefully examined the faces and postures of the statues–all of which displayed some form of terror, whether they stared up towards the grand staircase or shielded themselves from some unknown attack. Worse yet, some of the statues were missing arms or had been knocked to the ground and shattered into large chunks of stone. "This must have been what Rosina was trying to tell us!"

Without saying a word, Meg turned a shade of white and ran up the grand staircase. Christine followed suit and looked around the staircase for any familiar faces that were unfortunate enough to have this fate. She saw Firmin trying in vain to protect his wife while Andre was caught in the moment of trying to turn around and run up the steps. She could see Lady DuBois gasping with a hand to her mouth while the normally well composed Remy looked to be in the middle of screaming for his life. She could not see Raoul or his brother, which made her concerned.

Amongst these souls, being hugged by her still living daughter, was a very resigned yet depressed looking Madame Giry who stared at a very particular spot on the staircase that was stationed between two large holes.

"Meg," Christine felt a pang in her heart as her friend hugged the statue of her mother. She understood perfectly well what must have been going through the blonde girl's head in that instant and waited patiently for her while respecting her needs. This was not how Meg had imagined meeting her mother again and Christine emphasized with her for that. Seeing the respectable Madame Giry be brought to this state made this quest much more personal than it already was.

Moments passed before Meg was finally able to let go of the statue and turned to Christine. She was trying to wipe away the tears that had managed to escape while struggling to suppress any that were still in her, but the need to avenge and restore her mother was very evident in her eyes.

"Lets end this once and for all." Meg firmly told Christine who nodded in understanding and lead Meg away towards the hallway they were seeking.

They finally entered the corridors where the doors to the boxes could be found. There was one in particular that they agreed to appear in and just as they found the correct number, Meg grabbed Christine's jacket and tightened her hold on it as if her life depended upon it.

"What is–"

"Tiger." Was the nervous whisper.

Christine cautiously glanced down the hall and saw a creature that she had only seen in images and never in real life (Thank the high heavens) until this very moment. A black and orange stripped cat that looked bigger than the size of a grown man was staring them down with eyes that seemed to shine like moonlight within the darkness.

Christine didn't take her chances as she quickly opened the door to box five and pulled Meg in before she was able to shut the door and barricade themselves from the cat.

"Why is there a tiger here?!" Meg hissed between deep breaths as she recovered from the fast escape. She shook her head and walked towards the balcony of the box.

Taking a moment to catch her own breath, Christine turned around to join Meg as they quietly observed the theater from the protection of the box.

The whole theater had been covered in more mirror surfaces upon its walls and the once red seats and curtains were now a dark–almost black color. Christine glanced up to see that the ceiling was also covered in mirrors and the gapping hole now had some sort of strange black, purple, silver and red chandelier that looked as if jagged glass fragments were sticking out and the whole thing had been chained a few feet around the perimeter of the hole.

Instead of glancing out across to look at the other boxes, the girls turned their attention towards the stage.

Lilian sat upon some sort of plush chair that was flanked by two male statues and a very alive looking Fantine. Lilian was was dressed in what Christine immediately recognized as the dark wine colored dress that Carlotta wore as Rosalinde from _Die Fledermaus_ while the woman played with some kind of long black cane or staff topped with something that Christine could not identify from the great distance between the two of them. Meanwhile all the ballerinas and chorus girls of the Opera were chained to the floor of the stage by chains attached to their ankles. They had not been turned to stone but they looked horrible as their clothes had been torn, their hair was in disarray, and some of them had sinister red stain marks around their ankles. Judging by the look of things, all of them looked incredibly tired out and were struggling to stand up while others had already collapsed to the floor.

"Is that the best you can do?" Lilian asked them. "The best dancers in all of Paris and you cant even last three days in a row?"

"We can't dance on our feet for as long as you want us to!" Jammes told her in a voice that was struggling to contain its anger.

"And I suppose you all would rather that I turn you all to stone like the others?" Lilian nonchalantly demanded. "You should be grateful that I want you alive, but you're all testing my kindness."

"We are only human!" Angelique protested. "Yes we were trained until our feet started to bleed and we wanted to quit our careers, but this is ridiculous!"

"Keep this up and I'll start breaking your ankles again, my precious drunkard." Lilian warned. "I can mend and break those precious bones for as long as I wish and not even my old master will be able to accept your punishments for you for very long."

Christine gasped and placed a hand over her mouth.

"It won't be long, my dears." Lilian stood up from her chair. "Soon I will be able to have even more power at my disposal and then you all will be rid of me at last." She took a large black object from out of her dress and examined it. "Unfortunately my definition of those words are more extreme than whatever you're thinking of."

Christine looked away from the scene and looked for the boxes as quickly as possible until she saw Rosina standing in the one she said that she would try to appear in. Christine readied a salute to the dancer as she shook Meg's shoulder to alert that she found their friend. Rosina finally spotted them and saluted back before she fully stepped out of the safety of her box, while Meg knelt down and took the carpet out of her bag.

"You still don't have all the members of the corps de ballet!" Rosina yelled as loudly as possible.

All eyes on stage turned towards the dancer who was known for being quiet as well as a reader.

"Oh well look who we have here!" Lilian laughed. "If it isn't one of the many guests who thought that they could escape from here alive!" She threw a hand out and a set of chains shot out from behind Rosina, who screamed when they wrapped themselves around her and she was sent flying right towards Lilian. The others began to scream as the girl was sent through the air and landed right in front of Lilian.

"I was wondering where you had gone!" Lilian exclaimed. The girl's bonds had been wrapped around so tightly around her that she couldn't move her arms. "Did you expect to try to save your companions and gave up instead?"

Rosina needed a moment to catch her breath and get her nerves under control.

"I have to admire your determination girl. Three days with no food or water and you probably spent a lot of time in the cellars, correct?"

"Where is he?" Rosina was finally able to ask. "Where's Erik?"

" _Where's Erik?"_ Lilian repeated. "Why should you care where he is? He's the reason you and the others are in this mess to begin with."

Christine waited with baited breath.

"Where's Erik?" Rosina asked again.

"Oh, he's in good hands." Lilian merely replied as she spun the staff around in her hand. "But that isn't your concern. Tell me girl–have there been anyone else besides you down there? I sensed it not that long ago–someone managed to enter the Opera House."

Rosina remained silent.

It did seem strange to Christine that Erik was absent and not anywhere near Lilian. However, it was peculiar that Rosina would actually bring this up when it was so obvious that he wasn't there. It made Christine wish that she asked more about what happened to him that matter beforehand.

Lilian sighed as she placed the black mask upon her face. "I suppose I'm willing to let you have a sample of my powers, though I doubt you'll be able to survive the experience."

"May I be able to have a few last words?" Rosina quickly asked.

"That's the signal." Meg hissed as she quickly took the carpet out. Christine glanced out to where Lilian was–there would be only one chance to do this correctly before Lilian would notice them.

"I suppose I can allow you such a mercy, since you were able to impress me." Lilian decided. "What final words will you impart upon this dear earth for all to hear?"

Rosina took a deep breath and let out what she had to say in a loud voice.

"Romeo and Juliet were both idiots, Faust doesn't deserve Marguerite, I think Heathcliff is a horrible hero, Esmeralda is an idiot, I don't think Mr. Darcy is the perfect example of the ideal man-!" Rosina continued to speak her mind about literature without stopping, much to the confusion of Lilian and the amusement of Fantine who quickly suspected what was going on.

Unknown to Lilian, both Christine and Meg had gotten upon the enchanted carpet and held on to it for dear life. As Rosina let out what she had to say, they made their ride speed down towards the masked woman and Meg held onto Christine's arm while Christine had her hand out and ready to snatch the mask off of Lilian's face.

The ballerinas and the chorus girls noticed their flying sister performers first but they had little time to react and Rosina refused to break eye contact from Lilian.

Christine's hand stretched out as far as she could–

–and was only able to scrape her hands against the mask.

The singer panicked, just as the carpet went to far towards the wings. The moment it was about to cross over into the backstage, a wall of fire quickly shot up high enough to block them and Meg was forced to pull at the carpet and make it turn away.

Lilian watched in stunned silence. "No... how could she have–?!" Her eyes narrowed in anger as both Christine and Meg turned their heads to face the former member of a royal family as well as a handful of familiar faces who cried out in surprise.

"Meg?!"

"Christine?!"

With a snarl, Lilian snapped her fingers at the fires where a ribbon of flames shot out and spiraled out at the air bound duo. "I knew I should have just killed you!" She yelled in frustration.

"And now we have to do it the hard way!" Meg grabbed onto the carpet and pulled at it. As if it could already sense what was going on, the enchanted object quickly took both girls away from the flames, which continued to trail after them.

The others screamed at the sight as Lilian shoved Rosina into the ground with the staff while keeping her focus on the flames. The carpet began to soar around the theater as the ribbon of fire soared after it and diminished the wall of flames from where it came from. The moment Lilian saw that there was another end point to the ribbon, she snapped her fingers to the other side of the theater where a second wall of flames shot up.

"You better tell me how we're going to get that mask without getting killed, or else we're going to get killed!" Meg yelled at Christine as both of them hung onto their ride for dear life.

"I don't know if the ring can help at the moment and Erik is missing!" Christine yelled back.

"Well we can't rely on him now, can we?!" Meg turned and screamed as she saw the second ribbon of flames shot out towards them.

Both girls screamed when the carpet suddenly bent down and began to fly downward towards the seats at a slightly step angle. Just as they were about to crash, the carpet suddenly turned an angle and flew upward while the fires crashed into the seats and set them ablaze.

"Now would be a good time to use the pistol-"

"NO!" Christine protested. "We don't have a clear shot!"

"Why didn't we just shoot her from the start then?!" Meg snapped back as the carpet tried to avoid the remaining ribbon of flames.

Lilian glared at the sea of flames that were consuming the seats before gazing up at the chandelier she made. Without even saying a word, she raised her hand towards it and willed the creation to crack and shatter while still staying in its place.

Two of the youngest ballerinas scooted closer to Sorelli out of terror and the former prima ballerina held onto them. The others stared up in fear for what was was about to happen and worried for the safety of their sister performers.

Both Christine and Meg could hear the sound of glass cracking and it was Christine who looked back to see that the chandelier was becoming undone and was separated into several shards in mid air. Only a moment passed in which the shards stayed a few inches from each other and gave off a sinister shine before they went right towards them.

"Get us out of here!" Christine yelled at Meg, who had glanced back to see the newest obstacle. The ballerina tugged at the carpet and it shot right towards the wings of the stage where this time there weren't any walls of flames to stop them. Unfortunately there was one trail of fire combined with hundreds of glass shards coming right at them to deliver a dangerous fate if neither of them were careful.

Like a game of cat and mouse the carpet flew down the many halls as the fire and shattered glass went after it. The carpet went this way and that way and tried to get as far away from the danger as possible but the obstacle from behind still continued on without stopping or slowing down. To make matters worse, they were forced to retreat back through the main entrance hall, where the fire and shards snaked their way around the human statues before catching up to its pray.

Neither girl could figure out the best way to escape the path of destruction.

Then, without warning Christine felt something latch onto her ankle and pull her off the carpet.

"CHRISTINE?!" Meg screamed as the other girl was pulled away from her by a chain that had latched onto her left ankle and wrist and was retreating back into one of the many mirrors that lined the hallway.

Christine didn't have a chance to hit the ground before she was sucked into the mirror. There was only a few seconds of darkness before she was tossed into another room and was sent flying across it and landed upon the floor before being dragged across it.

She had only enough time to see that she was about to be dragged into a hall where all the mirrors had been destroyed and was heading towards one of them at the very end.

All she could do was brace herself for the impact and cover as much of her face as she could. Unfortunately this did little to help her for the moment the chains pulled her up off the ground, her left side collided against the shattered glass which cut into her leg and into the left side of her face before the chains let go of her and she collapsed upon the ground in a dazed and very pained heap.

It felt as if her ankle had been smashed while the area around it suffered a number of cuts that rode up her leg. The left side of her face had erupted in a great number of stinging sensations and while she considered it a miracle that her eye had been spared, moving her mouth in any way made the pain worse and she had to will herself not to breathe out of a fear that she would ingest any of the glass shards that were around her.

Christine struggled to get up off the ground but her body was in enough pain to leave her stunned. She could hear the sound of footsteps and glass breaking under a pair of feet growing louder with each passing second before it came to a stop.

"I shouldn't have let him sent you away."

She was finally able to glance up at Lilian, who still held the black staff in her hands. It was only then that Christine noticed that the staff was topped with some sort of gray ornament shaped like a human skull. Lilian twirled the staff in her hand and raised it up before she used it to hit Christine in the stomach.

The singer let out a cry of pain as Lilian continued to talk to the girl as if it were a simple conversation to her. "I wasted a wish upon you." She hit Christine with the staff again. "You were stupid enough to even think of coming back to try to stop me." She hit her a third time and Christine couldn't get up this time. "And you even thought you had a chance to do so!" Her voice raised as she smacked the staff into Christine as hard as she could and the poor girl let out a cry that faded into a whimper.

Unfortunately Lilian wasn't done just yet. She grabbed Christine by her hair and pulled her up before swinging her right into the already cracked mirror without letting go. The impact caused the mirror to crack some more before Lilian forcefully dragged Christine across its surface and threw her down upon the ground.

It took all of Christine's will to fight the scream inside her as she felt the wounds upon the left side of her face while she clutched at it. As she struggled to get up with only one hand for support (while the other was still pressed against her wounds) she slowly turned her head to face the mirror. She moved her hand away to see rivers of long, deep gashes upon her left side of her face: specifically her cheek, temple, forehead, close to one end of her lips and the left side of her nose. All of the wounds were already bleeding out and a few little grains of mirror shards were now embedded into her flesh.

Lilian also saw the wounds and let out a very amused laugh. "Oh, _that_ is going to make for some good entertainment later."

"You know I was starting to wonder which one of us would best the other, considering how different we are from each other while also under the tutelage of the same person. I was taught to kill and you were taught to sing but I had expected much more from you. Sadly you are quite a disappointment Daae."

She grabbed Christine by the neck and roughly pulled her up and pressed her back into the glass. The singer let out a shocked gasp as she automatically clutched Lilian's wrists as her only means of defense.

"You see Daae, you _may_ be an entertainer, but all you do is amuse others by showing off your pretty face and voice." Lilian hissed. "Its true that you have a gift that most would kill to have, but it is nothing _compared_ to having power or intelligence. Perhaps that father of yours should have taught you better, but then again I remember what you really are. You can pretend to be a queen on the stage and you can win over the hearts of many–including of one of the most dangerous people to ever walk this earth– but take them all away and you are _nothing_. In the end you are just a poor, uneducated child who had the misfortune to have a wandering, penniless musician for a father."

Christine could only stare as she felt an old anger inside her begin to rise, but she couldn't do a thing about it. Lilian had defeated her to the point that she no longer had any idea what to do to stop her. She couldn't even be able to reach out and pull the mask away since Lilian would see the move coming a mile away.

She then realized there was one thing she _could_ attempt.

Within seconds she took the pistol out of her pocket and shot Lilian point blank in the stomach. Never had the sound of a loud gunshot been such a relief to Christine.

The moment Lilian's eyes widened at she let Christine go, the singer quickly grabbed the staff away from Lilian and struggled to run away from her as fast as she could while stuffing the gun back in her pockets. It was difficult since she was still shaken and one side of her body still hurt, but she had to force herself to press on.

Lilian finally recovered from the shock and slowly turned around to see Christine running towards the other end of the hall. Though she had been stunned, the bullet didn't pierce through her body thanks to the magic coursing through her, but the magic was slowly being replaced with anger as soon as she became aware of what was happening and snapped her fingers. This action transported the both of them out of the hall and took them right up into the rafters above the stage.

"What the-?!" Christine glanced around in confusion as she came to a sudden halt and almost stumbled over her feet.

"Well it looks like your proving me wrong, Daae!" Christine turned around to see that Lilian had summoned out a sword. "I guess you're not as pure as you'd like to think!" The woman lunged forward and made to strike Christine, but the singer quickly struck back against the weapon with the staff thanks to a very quick decision to fight back.

"Face it, you aren't so different than us!" Lilian snarled as she made to strike again, which Christine was able to block. "Do you know how many people I had to kill in order to find the right mistress?" She attacked once more but Christine quickly held the staff out with both hands and blocked the attack.

"Deep down we are all sinners!" Lilian snarled as she forced the blade against the staff and moved to get closer into Christine's face. The singer felt herself bending backwards and it took her all to hold the blade back. "Even with trying to kill me off, you still carry the blood of the many lives I claimed! Each one could have spoken too much or just had the misfortune of being in the way!"

"You seem to enjoy talking a lot for one who wants to kill me!" Christine couldn't help but grunt a strained retort back before finally pushing against the staff and Lilian's blade with all of her might before successfully smacking her in the face while she was still stunned.

"That's it! Attack the face!" Violette cheered from below as most of the others watched in dreaded anticipation.

"Avenge our feet!" Angelique hollered enthusiastically. "Break her nose!"

"Break her nose!" Jammes cheered in agreement.

Forcing herself to grit her teeth to fight off the pain in her face and the side of her body, Christine quickly smacked Lilian as hard as she could across the face at least three more times before thrusting the head of the staff right into the other woman's diaphragm. Lilian stepped on the skirts of the dress and fell against the bridge but she was still able to keep a hold on her sword.

"I am proud of who I am, Lilian!" Christine yelled as she pressed the staff deeper into Lilian's diaphram. "I wouldn't trade my childhood _or_ my father for all the riches in the world! And if I have to do whatever it takes to end this nightmare than so be it!" She declared as she reached down to tear the mask off her opponent's face.

Lilian let out a growl and grabbed the staff, yanked it as hard as she could, and caused Christine to fall right onto her. Lilian quickly grabbed onto the staff and got up on her feet while pushing Christine off of her before the singer was spun over the bridge and found herself hanging over the heads of the screaming ballerinas and chorus girls while holding onto the staff for dear life.

Christine glanced down at the other girls in alarm and struggled to hold onto the staff for dear life before she glanced up to Lilian who managed to have an almost inhuman hold on the staff.

"You forget that I was trained to kill!" Lilian then just simply let go of the staff like dropping a stone into water.

Christine found herself falling and had no time to scream along with the others below. She felt herself plummeting downward and the wind rushing up against her before something soft pressed up against her back and Lilian vanished out of eyesight as the rafters shifted and turned into the backstage ceiling.

"I got you!" Meg cheered as she helped her friend up.

"I'm going to make him _pay_ for this!" Lilian cursed and flicked her hand out, causing a series of chains to shoot out across the mirrors in the very hallway that both Meg and Christine were in. Each one shot out from one mirror and into the other and they were slowly gaining upon Meg and Christine, who turned to see what was happening.

"What about the fire?!" She shouted to Meg.

"I don't know, but it stopped following me the moment you vanished!"

"Well that's not going to help us now that we have a new problem!" Christine pointed with the staff out towards their new problem for emphasis.

"Well is there any other way we can get her?!" Meg demanded as the mirrors in the walls began to shatter and the chains got closer and closer towards them. "We tried to get the mask off, but now there's no way we can get close enough to do so! There has to be some sort of trick or diversion we could make to get it off her! Otherwise we'll have to actually kill her!"

"And what do _you_ suggest?!"

"Use the ring! Why haven't you used it yet?!"

Christine glanced to the ring on her finger as their ride took them up into the upper levels of the Opera House. It was something she wanted to try but if Lilian found out about it then she would only become more determined to stop them. Besides, what sort of magic could be used to defeat her if she herself had more power at her disposal?

Another chain shot out of a mirror and was headed right towards Christine while she was distracted. Gritting her teeth together, a determined Meg grabbed the staff from Christine's hand and tried to smack the chain away, but the chain wrapped itself around the staff as well as Meg's arm before it pulled the dancer towards the mirror.

"MEG!" Christine screamed as she quickly grabbed onto Meg's arm before she found herself being pulled along with her. Even the carpet seemed to come to a stop and try to pull in the opposite direction of the chain and despite Meg's best attempts to hold onto the carpet with her free hand, the chain tightened its hold and was winning in the struggle.

"I'm not letting you go!" Christine swore as she held on.

"You have to!" Meg cried out as the chain's hold tightened to the point that it was like it was about to crush her wrist. "I know you'll figure something out! You can do it!"

"I can't!" Christine frantically cried. "If she was able to stop Erik, than what could I be able to do?!"

Meg was about to respond but then she took a look at the staff and turned white with shock. "Christine!" She glanced back. "What if-?!"

Whatever Meg was going to say was too late; with a final tug, the chain succeeded in pulling the staff and the dancer away from Christine's hold. Meg only had enough time to watch her friend still desperately reach towards her before she was sucked into the mirror.

"MEG!" Christine screamed but it was futile- her friend was now at Lilian's mercy and the carpet immediately continued its journey at a much faster pace.

Christine struggled to get on the middle of the carpet before it entered a section of the Opera House that looked familiar. It occurred to her that she was now somewhere above the very ceiling of the theater in the house before a second chain shot out from one final mirror, except this one was aiming directly at the carpet with some sort of metal claw like appendage attached to it.

Before she knew it, Christine felt the carpet pull out from under her and found herself falling downward as her ride was taken into the mirror before she roughly collided (painfully) against the ground.

It took Christine a few seconds for her body to recover from the shock before she forced herself to crawl away towards a wall that she pushed up against in order to get back on her feet. That was the moment that she saw that there were still chains shooting out towards her from one mirror and into another which were now shattering into many dangerous shards that would most likely kill her if the chains didn't get to her first.

Christine felt as if she was already losing her breath, but she forced herself to keep going and run as fast as she could despite the pains that she still felt in her body. She just barely made a turn to get to another hallway when a chain shot out just inches from her legs and tore through a part of her coat.

Finally she stumbled towards the nearest door and entered the room. She shut the door behind her out of habit and slammed herself against a wall before she froze upon seeing the first thing that came into her sight.

Of _all_ the rooms she could have entered, it had to be the one where the tiger from before was standing just a few feet away from her and looking at her intently as if deciding what to do with her.

Elsewhere, Meg aimed her gun and desperately fired a few rounds at Lilian who only flinched at being hit by the bullets. Second passed before Meg lowered her weapon as Lilian gave her a wide grin under the black mask. "Oh right, the little blonde friend; too bad you are as stupid as Daae is."

"You turned my mother and everyone else into statues!" Meg yelled. "You abused my fellow performers and you made the rats grow into monsters! Why didn't you just take Erik and leave us be?!"

"Because I'm interested in this building for personal reasons." Lilian picked up the staff and examined the skull on top of it. "Also the rats were a result of a side effect from taking over this place. Its not my fault that you have an intense hatred of them." She continued before holding a hand towards Meg, who felt something wrap itself around her neck before it tightened up. She only just managed to grab it in time before it could do serious damage (and dropped her pistol in the process), but it was still a struggle to keep the cord away from her neck.

"If your sufferings will make him miserable then I can still have my fun with you all, little dancer." Lilian told Meg as the rope suspended above air kept the girl in place. She raised her hand and twirled her fingers in the air while speaking. "I'm through with chasing Daae–I want her to come to me for a change."

Something white suddenly rushed into Meg's line of vision and for one second it was as if she had become trapped in a snowstorm before she realized that the white objects that were encircling her were in fact large feathers. Her worry was mixed with confusion before it turned into fear as the feathers began to press against her body; she tried to peel them away with one hand while the other still held onto the cord, but the feathers stayed in place as if they had been glued onto her.

"I hope you enjoy irony, my little dancer." Lilian peeled off the mask and gave Meg a gleeful smile. "Perhaps I shall return your mother to normal, along with Philippe and his brother. After all, there's more suffering to share and take in for my benefit."

* * *

 **Part 2 might come out late in June, depending on how things go on my side. Otherwise there is a high chance of it coming in July instead**.

 **And yes- Rosina pretty much insulted a bunch of literary characters who I do not own and who belong to their respective creators and stories. (Romeo and Juliet, Wuthering Heights, Faust, Pride and Prejudice, Notre Dame de Paris etc.)**


	17. Angel of Music vs Angel of Death (pt2)

**I can't do a disclaimer at the start of this chapter due to spoilers, but the credit will be given at the end of the chapter.**

* * *

 **Chapter 17: Angel of Music vs Angel of Death (pt 2)**

Christine stared paralyzed with fear as she and the gigantic tiger stared each other down. The beast looked as if it was trying to decide what to do with Christine while the singer tried to figure out whether to use the ring or wait for the tiger to lose interest in her. Either option came with a risk but there was nothing that she could do to save herself from the dangers in the twisted version of her home.

"Please don't." Christine shut her eyes as she quietly begged. "I've come so far-"

" _I assure you Mademoiselle Daae that I have no interest in attacking you, unlike the witch below us."_

Christine's eyes snapped open in alarm as the familiar voice met her ears and echoed inside her head. She stared stupidly at the great cat for a few seconds before it all clicked together. "A...Auguste?" She asked.

" _It is I."_ The voice came from the tiger, through it didn't move its mouth. _"Lilian thought it would be funny to turn me into what I was at the Masquerade. She made it so that only those endowed with magic could understand me for reasons I still can't comprehend and apparently that somehow applies to you."_ There was confusion in his voice before his tone changed to something a little more serious. _"However I think its very obvious that she is missing a few fruits from her basket, if you understand my meaning."_

Christine fell against the wall behind her and slunk down as her heart rate slowed back down. "I'm sorry for what she has done to you." She apologized. "Though I wonder if-" She looked at the ring on her finger. Could that have been the reason why she could hear Auguste?

" _It hasn't been that bad, though I would like to return to normal."_ Auguste confessed as he glanced to a certain point in the room. _"This may not be a safe place since we are right above the theater itself. Lilian could hear you if you are not careful."_

Christine looked to see that the grand chandelier in all its splendor was hanging over a huge hole in the floor that doubled as the ceiling to the theater below. She didn't need to look down to know how far up they were, though the idea made her ill. "So we are." She sighed as she tried to think of what to do. "Auguste- I mean Monsieur-"

" _Considering the circumstances, you should just call me Auguste, Mademoiselle Daae."_

"Auguste–right. Do you know if there is a way to stop Lilian? I have tried to take her mask away, but it was in vain. She has taken my friend and now I'm at her mercy." She looked down at her ring again. "Even with all the magic given to me, I have no idea how to use this; I'm not book smart nor am I wise. Erik would know, but he is not here to guide me."

She pulled the pistol out and checked to see how many bullets there were; to her dismay, there weren't any left. "Lilian was right about me–all I'm good for is to perform for others." She sighed in despair.

The future baron stared at her for a while. _"What do you know of her?"_ He asked. _"We both know that she can be a bit unpredictable, but I know that she has had to give some sort of weakness away. She barely likes music and theater so I would think that this place could have been to your advantage."_

"And what good would that do for me?!" Christine demanded. "Do you honestly expect me to put on a show for her?!"

" _You are an actor and a singer Mademoisselle Daae. Acting is the same as putting on a performance and surely that could be of use to you; lower her defenses and put her off guard as you do to your audience. Or at least that would be what I would advise if I were an actor- can you recall a time where you were able to get away with something through pretending or lying?"_

Christine thought about this. There hadn't been many times that she could think of- in her childhood, she and Raoul were able to get many people to tell them stories by pretending to be beggars, she and Meg were able to lie to everyone when it came to Erik, and of course there was the theater itself.

That and her own father had been forced to lie to her a few times when it came to their worst days on the road. She had bought them, ignorant of just how deep in poverty and lacking in necessities they truly were.

But Lilian was a danger and would go after Christine the moment the mask came off. There _had_ to be a way to buy enough time for her to get the mask to Erik. In the worst case scenario it would require making a sacrifice on her part.

Something in her head began to come together, like a composition for a score; she closed her eyes in deep thought and played it out in her head. She put together all that she knew of Lilian as well as herself, what Auguste had advised, all that Erik had taught her, and she tried to quickly think of outcomes and alternatives. After all, she needed to have room for improvisation if something went wrong.

Her eyes gazed at the chandelier, which seemed to glow and shine in the darkness and encourage her as if it were a sign from God, Allah, or whatever His true name was. It took away the fear she felt as she understood what might have to be done in order to succeed.

* * *

The moment Lilian returned back to the stage with two statues from the grand staircase, she saw that her prisoners were still in place and neither Fantine or the ballerina had tried to escape. She chose not to react to their tension as she snapped her fingers and had all four statues on the stage wrapped up in chains before she returned them to life.

A moan made her turn around to face the first two statues that had returned back into the living form of the Comte de Chagny and his brother. "Good to see that you are still alive and well, Philippe." Lilian greeted the elder brother who was still trying to get out of a dazed stupor while the younger was a little quicker on what was going on and had only one thing on his mind.

"Where is Christine?!" He demanded as he moved forward, but the chains had been rooted to the ground like those that had trapped Erik and restricted his movement. The nobleman was unable to move and could only give Lilian a snarl while his brother finally regained his focus.

"She's still here, de Chagny." Lilian replied as she played around with her staff.

Philippe took in his surroundings and looked at Lilian before he noticed the chained Sorelli who held a small spark of relief in her eyes upon seeing him alive and well. "I should never have invited you into my house." Philippe snarled at Lilian. "To think that I entertained a witch!"

"Witch." Fantine agreed with a snort.

"You shut up!" Lilian spun around and pointed a finger at Fantine. "I knew I was being to courteous when I made you into a human parrot! Even with one word you are still damn annoying!"

"Where is my daughter?!" The third former statue turned human–that blonde ballerina's mother–demanded after observing her students and fearing for their safety. "Where is my daughter?!" She demanded again as Darius—the fourth former statue— remained still.

"Not yet, old woman." Lilian snapped her fingers again and summoned out the carpet, which still had the chain with the claw attached to it. "First I need to bring in the rest of the players." She casually waved a hand and the carpet became engulfed in a puff of thick smoke. Seconds passed before a coughing could be heard and something stumbled in the smoke before it cleared away enough to reveal a man who was also trapped in chains but was surrounded by a pile of multi colored threads.

"Nadir!" Darius exclaimed out of both relief and concern for his master.

"Clever man." Lilian mockingly praised the man as the smoke completely cleared away. "My slave was smart enough to have you at the masquerade and you aided Daae and her friend in coming back here. I'm impressed by your actions, considering the hellish state I put you in; it was quite a laugh, actually."

The man collapsed to the ground upon his knees, but he was still able to glare up into Lilian's face with defiant jade colored eyes. "A fair exchange for the safety of those young women, Your Highness." Nadir coldly replied back. "Is there truly no compassion in your heart?"

"I was not raised to be so, Daroga." Lilian now turned her gaze to the skull upon the staff and brushed her fingers against its smooth surface. "And the one who helped to make me be who I am–the one who gave me this power–also takes that blame."

Without warning, she suddenly lifted the staff–twirling it in her hand as she did so–before raising it high above her head for a quick second before slamming the skull upon the ground.

The skull shattered upon the hard impact and a familiar smoke began to escape from it. It separated into two and one half trailed towards Lilian's outstretched hand while the other began to enlarge and grow in height before it revealed another prisoner who was more dangerous and yet more damaged than the others.

"Hello, Erik." Lilian hissed with a smile as the last of the smoke that was around her hand formed into a specific shape and vanished to be replaced by that of the jinn's bottle. "Did you enjoy seeing your student once more?" She asked as she threw the rest of the staff away. "I didn't, but at least I had some fun with her."

Erik looked miserable; his chains were still around his wrists and were impaled into the wooden floors of the stage like the first time that it had happened nearly three days ago. The once imposing, yet proud stature had been reduced to a slouching form and his head hung loose against his chest as he gazed upon the floor. Despite that he was still dressed the same, new injuries and scars had joined those that were a part of his exposed chest and torso which were even more of a sickly yellow tone than before. To add one more insult of mockery, all that he wore to hide his deformity was a full faced black mask while the rest of his head remained exposed to remind the others just how much of a monster he really was both inside and out.

"I have to admit that using the staff on her was practically the same as you beating her up." Lilian chuckled. "Of course, you saw what I did to her; she's not as ugly as you are, but she's a near perfect match."

This made Erik finally straighten up and look at Lilian with intense hatred. Though his eyes were the only thing that could be seen from the mask, the emotion in them alone was enough to make Lilian somewhat nervous; those yellow eyes might as well have belonged to a demon in that very moment.

"I would have pitied you, Zara." His voice came out as a quiet rasp. "You–the little sultana who didn't know what true friendship was and yet I still see you as you really are, just as I did all those years ago. You have had so many blessings that I could only dream of, and yet you squander them away for your own dark amusements."

"Like you are one to talk, Master Magician." Lilian snarled. "Murdering for the Royal Court and creating the torture chambers that you trapped me in, Do you have any idea how terrified I was when I was confined and alone with one person to talk to every seven days? I went insane! And then to find that my entire country forgot all about me when I finally managed to escape?! Do you have any idea how awful that is?!"

"I allowed myself to become the monster they all thought me to be because I took too much for granted and failed to see the alternatives!" Erik snarled back. "I failed to trust those who cared about me enough to maybe even look at me like a normal person! Because of that, I killed an honorable man and I had to send his daughter and her friend away from here! A friend who now can never see me as something other than a monster, both inside and out! I understand now that those were from my actions and I will _never_ stop trying to make amends for what has happened!" He glanced to Antoinette, who stared back at him in stunned silence. His confession would not fix what he had done, but it almost seemed to give Antoinette a little peace, if the brief softness in her eyes gave anything away. "Maybe you should have reflected on your actions and chosen a different path. I'm sorry for what I did to you, but your fate was also made from your own choices. Your imprisonment and all the lives that you have taken are not my fault, even if I did have a part in all of it."

Lilian merely snorted. "You poor creature–you really thought you could be a hero and set them all free? You think you can be a wise man and preach to me about my actions being the cause of my suffering?" She put the bottle away before she snapped her fingers one last time. Another puff of smoke arose, but this time she quickly grabbed onto whatever she summoned with her free hand. The smoke vanished to reveal a beautiful white swan and yet Lilian had a tight grip on its slender neck as well as around it's body with her other arm while the bottle remained in her hand.

Erik's calm demeanor vanished when he saw the swan. "Zara, no." He tried to command. "I promise that if you hurt her, you will regret it."

"Don't!" A very alarmed Nadir understood what was happening as his eyes widened in panic. "She has nothing to do with your feud! Let her go!"

"Such a pretty swan." Lilian glanced down at the bird, who did not bother to move in her grasp, but it was giving Erik a very pleading glance until Lilian's grip tightened a little on the neck and it let out a cry of fear. "I suppose the comparison of this creature to a ballerina is ideal for this sort of situation. Well that's what she gets for involving herself with Christine."

That was when Madame Giry realized what was going on and more importantly where her daughter was.

"NO!" She screamed as she struggled to get out of her chains. "UHAND MY DAUGHTER, YOU WITCH!"

The swan began to react with a frantic noise and she tried to thrash out of Lilian's grasp, but the woman would not budge. The neck of the bird kept bobbing up and down and it made many worry that she would snap her own neck if Lilian wouldn't do it first.

But for Erik–who was well endowed in magic enough to sense the true nature of the swan long, even if he hadn't known the truth beforehand–could hear a voice letting out panicked crying inside his head and it invoked an overwhelming dread and guilt in his heart.

" _HELP ME MOTHER! PLEASE SOMEONE HELP ME! MOTHER!"_

"Now where is your precious student Erik?!" Lilian demanded over the swan's cries. "Where's your last Mistress?! Where is the little rat that stole your heart?!"

"For the love of God, please stop this!" Erik lost his composure and did something he had never done in a long time and begged. "If you wan't to kill me, then do it now!" He could take many broken ankles for the ballerinas who both were afraid and pitied him, he could accept several methods of torture that were both mental and physical, and he would certainly be willing to sacrifice himself. Maybe he could finally become the person that Christine could have loved back- maybe he could finally make amends for all the wrong that he committed.

"So this is all it takes to make you humble and beg?" Lilian shook her head. "Sorry, but I'm not done with you yet. I'll have all of your magic in a few moments time and once I have your songbird, I'll make you feel true despair. So tell me Erik–how does it feel to be completely helpless for once in your life?"

"LILIAN!"

The woman loosened her grip on the swan's neck as all eyes turned to see a lone figure standing in the middle of the theater amongst the destroyed seats and rubble. The swan herself ceased her noise upon hearing the voice and gasped for air as she watched the new event unfold.

Christine stood there in her slave costume and ruined jacket while half of her face was marred by wounds and smeared with blood. She shakily reached into her jacket's pocket and pulled out her pistol before holding it near her heart (the end was facing out to the side, of course). All of this, combined with the fact that she looked like she was about to collapse at any given moment, made her look like a character right out of a horror story or a Victor Hugo novel.

"About damn time, Daae!" Lilian greeted. "But if you honestly think that'll stop me, then you must be more foolish than I thought you were."

Christine's eyes drifted from Lilian to her fellow performers, to Madame Giry, to Darius, to Philippe and Raoul, and to Erik. They all seemed worried stiff but there was something about Erik's posture that suggested defeat- it didn't take a mask to see that.

 _I can do this. I can DO this._ She shut her eyes. _Father please give me the courage and confidence to pull this off._ She asked before taking the plunge–it was time to throw herself into the hardest role she would ever have to perform–and tossed the gun off to the side.

"You win." Christine finally said in the most defeated voice she could produce as she looked up at Lilian. "You were right about me; I am nothing without my voice... I couldn't do anything to save everyone. Do as you wish with me."

Lilian stared at Christine, while the others confusion turned into complete shock. Erik especially was horrified to see that Christine had been reduced to _this_ of all things. "What game are you playing at, Daae?" Lilian demanded. "I'm not stupid-"

"You've won!" Christine snapped in weary frustration. (Which was partly genuine thanks to the last hour or so that she had to endure) "You wanted me to come so here I am! Do as you please, but don't take this out on everyone else! Do whatever you please with me–turn me into a slave, an animal, or your own singer–kill me if that's what you want, but only on two conditions."

"She's not serious, is she?" Angelique whispered. That was the question that was on all their minds while some just wanted the nightmare to end already. What was the point in prolonging it anymore?

Lilian gazed thoughtfully at Christine. "Name your terms then." She gave in. "I might as well have a laugh out of this."

"First you will let everyone go after you grant me a final request." Christine began as she took another deep breath and told herself to calm down. "Erik and I are the only ones that you really care about, are we not?"

"I can't make any promises." Lilian chuckled. "So what is your request? A meal? A moment with a loved one?"

"I would like to sing one last time." Christine began. "One song to entertain everyone before I might die. I wish to sing _Der Holle Rache_ from _the Magic Flute_ in full fortissimo with an organ that you might find at a cathedral and the organ must also be at full fortissimo."

While some could only watch in helplessness at Christine, others who knew music were now filled with confusion. Why that song along with that particular instrument, and in fortissimo to boot? Christine's voice would be drowned out! It was such a confusing, pointless request.

Only Erik knew the importance of such a request. Such a case had been Christine's final test and now she was about to repeat this with a very difficult song to do and especially if it was in full fortissimo with the organ. But the song in question was not just any ordinary song, but a song about vengeance instead of something that Christine would have likely sang instead.

"Sure why not." Lilian shrugged.

"As it happens, this very spot is the best place to hear one sing." Christine added. "If you don't trust me, I can stand in front of you as I sing."

Then it came together for Erik–Christine was planning something. He had no idea what it was and he hoped that it was something that would not endanger her, but why that spot in the theater? Something inside him made him look up to see that there was a huge gapping hole high above Christine where there normally was the-

Wait...no...no she couldn't possibly mean to actually–!

"I suppose I can humor you." Lilian decided as she waved a finger.

Seconds later, Christine found herself face to face with Lilian, who still carried Meg in her hands. Lilian glanced behind Christine who could hear her magic at work before she turned to see a massive organ right behind her. Her eyes drifted upward to see if it would obstruct her goal, but she could see that if she was quick enough-

"Make it quick, Daae." Lilian commanded as the sheet music to the song appeared on a music stand upon the grand instrument.

Christine turned around and made her next gamble. "Why does Erik still wear the mask if you aren't draining his power? Are you intending to make him suffer though this too?"

"Even without that intention, a mask is still a cause of suffering for him." Lilian laughed as she flicked a finger from the hand holding onto the swan's neck and her own mask appeared over her face.

There was a slight moaning sound and Christine glanced behind Lilian to see that Erik had suddenly collapsed onto the stage floor. Her concern for Erik only increased and this reaction to Lilian's mask made her afraid for his fate and she prayed that she would be able to pull off her act.

"Its not pleasant for him." Lilian's voice was slightly muffled behind the mask but there was no denying the smugness in it. "I've found other jinn in my travels and also drained them of their power until they perished, but I want his suffering to continue on for as long as possible."

"By the way, little songbird," She began to ask. "Did you figure out the truth about your angel and my magician?"

Christine snapped out of her thoughts. "The truth?"

"I might as well tell you since I can't promise you'll live or see him again." Lilian leaned forward. "I would have thought that you figured it out, but then again I can't blame your lack of perception and thought."

No one else could hear what Lilian had to say since her voice lowered to a whisper.

"Erik was once a powerless human like you and the others." She told Christine. "He was never born with an ounce of magic in his blood, but that monstrosity of a face that he keeps hiding? He _always_ had that. He was promised to have his physical appearance changed into that of a normal man, but my family instead used ancient magic to trap him as a slave for all eternity because they wanted to use his unique talents to further their ambitions."

"So do you understand now?" Lilian asked as she drew back and her voice resumed its normal volume.

Christine remained silent before she looked up and said only one thing with a calmness that took much to hold onto to mask her own feelings:

"Then I suppose I need to let him hear me sing one last time."

Lilian hesitated before replying. "Well if that is what you wish." She looked to the organ and gave it a silent command.

The organ's sound blared out and filled the Opera House in a way that had never been done before. Such an instrument would be hard to put into the building and its might was enough for some to quickly put their hands over their ears. The fortissimo that Christine had requested had caught those who weren't aware of its meaning off guard, but they had little time to process what happened and they gave into the voice of the seemingly doomed angel who let out, not a divine melody filled with joy or sorrow, but a powerful, rage filled aria.

" _Der Holle Rache kocht in meinem Herzen!"_ Christine sang out as she drew deep within herself to match her voice with the organ in a perfect marriage of equal pitch and volume. Her wounds upon her face widened a little with some of the movements her mouth made, but she was able to ignore them as she continued to sing. In that moment she allowed herself to switch her role of the hapless, broken girl to a glorious queen whose heart was filled with vengeance. " _Tod Und Verzweiflung flammet um mich her!"_

She wanted to keep her eyes on Lilian to see if she was losing her suspicions, but she had to allow herself to only do so if her performance could allow it. If Lilian saw her break character, then it would ruin everything.

The others nervously watched on and waited to see what would happen. Even Lilian waited to see what game Christine was up to, though her performance was making this a little difficult to stay alert and she slowly gave into it.

" _Fuhlt nicht durch dich Sarasto Todessschmerzen"_ Christine sang _"Sarasto Todessschmerzen. So bist du meine Tochter nimmermehr."_ She held her hands out as her voice spun out around her but she was aware that her moment was coming at hand as she repeated again _"So bist du meine Tochter nimmermehr."_

Her greatest challenge was now at hand–to sing those notes that only few could ever achieve while maintaining her masquerade and keeping aware of her goal at hand. Her anger and determination had become one with the Queen of the Night herself but now it was time to turn that anger into something more heavenly.

Her hands slowly drew out in front of her as the famous high notes of the aria soared out of her. The voice that she had carefully crafted was at its perfection–if this was to indeed be her last song, than she could not think of a better imprint to leave behind.

Her eyes were open and she could see that she finally had Lilian under her spell; All visible tension in her opposite's body seemed to have vanished. More importantly, it seemed that that the swan had picked up what Christine was planning (or was most likely planning to do) and she was eying the black mask upon Lilian's face.

Christine finally took her cue as she let out her highest notes before finally allowing the highest note of the song to come forth as if it were a feather gently floating in the wind.

In that instant, the chains that once bound Erik suddenly vanished before they bursted out of the ground around Lilian and attached themselves to her wrists.

In her shock, Lilian let out a "What the-?!" and lost most of her grip on the swan, who went to attack her captor's masked face. Lilian still retained her hold and tried to once again grab onto Meg's neck, but the bird's wings were in the way and they flapped so furiously that it was hard to do it.

Still caught up in her song, Christine continued to sing as she bursted forward towards Lilian, who was about to strike Meg with the bottle. Christine quickly pulled the bottle right out of Lilian's grasp and reached out to finally grab the mask off Lilian's face.

High up above Lilian and Christine, the chandelier made a certain reaction at the very second Christine hit the last note of the series of notes–the top most chains snapped in half and the weight of the beautiful creation gave way when gravity took over.

Christine made a run for it, with both mask and bottle in hand, while the swan quickly flew off towards one of the nearby boxes. Lilian–who had not heard the commotion above her head–only had enough time to growl and made to ready a spell, but it did not work; Her golden chains had been finally used against their owner.

All eyes that were turned towards the scene watched in horror as the chandelier fell down towards their captor and many were quick to close their eyes or look away. The chandelier itself partially hit the organ, but it still fell down and headed right towards Lilian.

Christine could sense the commotion behind her and did not stop until she reached the orchestra pit and that was the moment that the chandelier made it's mark with a great crash and broke into pieces upon impact.

Christine panted for air as she felt her heartbeat increase faster than it ever had. No performance could ever equal the shot of adrenaline that filled her and she couldn't dare open her eyes until she took a deep breath to steady herself.

She slowly turned around to face the destruction; She could not deny the bit of pride in herself before she realized what she had done and felt an overwhelming sense of guilt. Lilian succeeded in turning Christine into someone like her–an Angel of Death.

This was not the person she wanted to become and yet–

"Christine?!"

She remembered that she needed to do something important and quickly proceeded to put the precious belongings into her coat and climbed up onto the ledge of the orchestra pit. Her balance was shaky at best as she made her way towards the stage (the shock of her escape still inside her) and when she made it, she only briefly glanced at everyone's faces while a certain tiger emerged into the theater to watch from the shadows.

"Chris...Christine?" Raoul asked cautiously.

"Did you make the chandelier fall by _singing_?!" Angelique asked in amazement. "Or was that just the organ?"

"That was incredible!" Lucille let out a laugh.

Everyone seemed alright; they were shaken by the events and still chained to their spots, but they were otherwise alright. All except one, whom Christine was the most concerned about.

She stepped towards Erik, who was free from his bounds but was still kneeling on the floor. When she was close enough, he was able to finally glance up and see her with eyes that were still struggling to believe what they had witnessed.

She took both the bottle and mask out of her coat–the jewels of the bottle once more shinned with a pure whiteness that was as welcoming as it was reassuring. She then glanced to Erik who stared at the mask and waited to see what she would do since all his power resided in it. She could deny him his power as punishment for all his crimes and it was the outcome that he expected above all else.

So it was an overwhelming moment for him when Christine held the mask towards him with a small smile on her still freshly injured face. That action showed that she still trusted him, despite all that he made her go through.

Erik slowly stood up, though it took everything to stay upright. He reached to take his own mask off, but then hesitated when he realized what he would do in the process and reveal his true face once again. Yet when he saw Christine's injured face–a face that would become horribly scared if he didn't fix it– he found the courage to finally do what he had dreaded for a long time and took off the mask to reveal his face to her.

Once again that balance of handsomeness and ugliness was on display for all eyes to see–the face of both a normal man and a twisted monster and with both devoid of a proper nose. Those who saw the normal side could see an incomplete human being facing a beautiful young woman while the others could see something much deeper in meaning to them.

In that one moment, Christine's ruined side of her face almost matched Erik's. It was as if she had been forced to confront her own inner ugliness in facing that of another's and despite how unsettling the contrast was, there was a strange beauty about that one side where deformity and injury were equals.

Christine didn't mind the deformity before her; no matter how horrifying it was upon first glance, it no longer had the same effect upon her now that she knew who Erik really was. In some bizarre way the deformities actually fascinated her and–strange as it would have sounded–he was still handsome even without the mask to create the illusion of looking normal.

Christine held the mask to Erik, who finally accepted it and placed it over his own face.

The moment the mask was on his face, he bent forward as if in pain. Christine panicked "Erik?!" She asked, but he held his hand out in protest before he snapped back up. He remained like that for a few moments before he was engulfed in smoke for another few moments more.

When the smoke cleared away, it was shown that he had regained the appearance that Christine was most familiar with: the elegant robe, the white shirt, and even the black wig and the white half mask had returned to its true form when Erik switched it back on in place of Lilian's mask. Most importantly, his skin returned to it's natural hue and he looked healthy again, both physically and mentally.

Erik stared at the mask that once housed his power before letting it drop to the floor where it shattered into pieces before vanishing into smoke.

"If you finally have your powers back," The voice of Madame Giry broke through and Christine and Erik looked to see that the ballet mistress had a very dangerous look upon her face "then you will turn my daughter back to normal and make things right before I find a reason to take them away again."

"Patience Antoinette." Erik calmly replied. "You know that all can be reversed. I can make everything go back to they way they should be, in their natural state."

"But wait a moment!" Rosina asked in alarm. "What about you? Everyone will remember what happened at the Masquerade!"

"Oh that's right!" Jammes let out a nervous laugh. "How can you explain magic those people who thought it was only a fairytale until that night?"

"Make everyone think that they saw the green fairy!" Many eyes gave Angelique (who suggested this) different looks. "That was my excuse last time!" Angelique protested. "What else would be the most rational choice?"

All of those points (not including Angelique's suggestion) made Christine afraid for Erik. The truth about him (as well as her connections to him) were exposed and there was no telling what consequences awaited them.

Angelique's words earned a small half smirk from Erik. "I can assure you that the removal of memories is a possibility, Mademoiselle. The world is not entirely ready to accept magic as a reality, nor would it do good for the future history that is already set in stone." He gave Christine a serious look. "Especially for all of your sakes."

* * *

None were aware that the color returned back to the exterior of the Palais Garnier on that night. If the citizens had seen this restoration, like paint being applied to a canvas, they would have assumed that a small miracle had occurred in the architectural world. Those who had at leased sensed that something had been amiss in the area felt a calm return.

Within the halls of the Opera House, the distortions of mirrors and traps that Lilian created had vanished in a soft flash of light. Once again the true opulence and grandeur shone through in all its overwhelming, yet inviting glory.

The Masquerade ball and all its guests were still frozen in time and marble. The light that had restored the Opera House also extended to the guests as the statues were reformed back together–as if the moment their parts came apart was rewinded. All the statues glowed until they turned white, before they softly faded away to reveal the restored humans who took a moment to come to their senses.

"Dearest!" Firmin caught his wife as her legs gave out and she began to collapse, while Andre looked around in confusion. "Wh–what happened?" Andre asked before he saw the spot where two women had stood on the staircase. "Where is Mademoiselle Blanchette and Mademoiselle Daae?"

"Lilian?!" Laurette gasped before a memory came to mind–an impostor who wore the face of the sister that she had murdered. "Oh God!" She gasped as she clasped a hand to her mouth. "Where is she?! Where did she go?!" She demanded to the nearest guest.

"What are you talking about?" She asked.

"But you saw what happened!" Laurette gestured to the spot. "The woman changed her appearance and summoned out a man in a mask! She tortured that other girl and then she–"

The guest merely laughed and walked away.

* * *

Those who were still in the theater watched as their beloved home had changed and restored to its true glory. Furthermore, the chains of the imprisoned snapped and came loose from the floors while the organ vanished away and returned to whence it came from.

"Thank God!" Sorelli gasped as she realized what just happened, while the other girls made to leave their spots and enjoy their freedom.

"Sorelli!"

"Philippe!" The dancer glanced up to see the Comte rush towards her with open arms. With a delighted laugh, she hopped off the ground and dashed towards Philippe before crashing into him with a tight hug.

"We actually survived that nightmare!" Angelique laughed as she stood up, grabbed the nearest girl, and spun her around.

"Ugh." Auguste had just been restored to his human form and tried to stand up while rubbing his face. "God if you are up there, don't let me be turned into an animal ever again." He pleaded.

Up above the future baron, the swan that was perched on the edge of a box flashed with a white light. He looked up just in time, for the moment the swan's form grew big enough it fell off the edge and he quickly threw his arms out to catch her. As soon as the form reached a certain size and shape, the light faded to reveal a certain blonde haired young lady who landed in Auguste arm's in a perfect bridal style.

"Oph!" Meg let out as she felt herself land in Auguste arms. She looked to see who or what had caught her and when she did, she felt her breath leave her when she saw his face. "Oh, uh... hello Monsieur-?"

"Auguste, Mademoiselle Meg." The hardened face of the man softened when he gave the dancer a pleasant smile. "Remember the man in the tiger mask?"

"Oh!" Meg blushed as she realized who this man was. "I–uh–I–" She stammered as she felt herself blush in embarrassment. "Thank you." She finally blurted out.

"Oh thank God." Madame Giry sighed in relief when she saw her daughter safe and sound. Christine herself giggled at the sight of her friend seeing Auguste face to face at last.

"Christine?" She turned around and felt herself be hugged; It wasn't until she heard the speaker that she realized who it was. "I'm sorry." Raoul apologized. "I should have suspected Lilian's true character from the start."

"Its alright." Christine softly replied as she returned the hug. "I'm glad all of you are safe."

Christine was unaware that Erik had just then turned his gaze upon her and Raoul. Several thoughts ran through his head at the sight of the two together–there was a moment of anger and jealousy, and longing to be in the other man's place. Yet he realized that it was too late for him, for he had done too much damage to earn back any of her affection or her trust. He could do nothing to ease that pain but look away, yet some careful eyes could see the emotion that couldn't be repressed and they felt a twinge of pity for the man.

"Erik." Nadir was among those who sensed that pain. It was very clear–more than ever–that Erik's feelings towards the singer were genuine. Never before had he ever seemed to long for someone that much or be so heartbroken over what he could not have. He quietly approached Erik and spoke up:

"You've given that girl so much. If you can find it in yourself, then you know that you must grant her the right to chose what she desires."

"I know." Erik sighed but then he recalled something important and turned to Nadir. "Pardon me Daroga—did my eyes deceive me, or had you been enchanted into an _actual_ flying carpet?"

"Yes you–" Nadir stopped when he realized what he was about to give Erik, but it was too late as the jinn broke into a wide grin that caused the Daroga embarrassment and discomfort. "You are not going to live that down, are you?"

"No!" Erik innocently yet almost too cheerfully replied shook his head as he chuckled. "Erik never lives down a moment that makes him laugh!"

Nadir felt his annoyance grow as he internally pleaded. _Allah, I know it is too much to ask, but please give me some patience in dealing with him._

"I'll only let it slide this once, Erik." Daroga darkly informed Erik while sincerely meaning it. Perhaps Erik rightfully needed a laugh after all of his share of everyone's misery in this moment.

Christine finally parted ways from Raoul to turn to Erik. "Thank you for restoring everything to the way it should." She gave him a smile of gratitude.

But Erik lost his gaiety when he could see that she still bore her injuries and shook his head. "No." He held his hand out for her.

Confused, Christine walked to him and accepted his hand before he raised his free hand up and gently placed it upon the injured side of her face. He closed his eyes and a familiar blue light escaped from his hand, which felt warm and pleasant to Christine, before she felt her wounds pull together and seal back up.

Erik drew his hand back as Christine touched her face to feel that it was now smooth and free of any lingering scars, though her blood was still covering the skin. She glanced back to Erik, who examined the blood that was still upon his own hand.

"One of the last sufferings that I could ever wish upon you Christine," He softly explained "is to suffer the same curse that I must bear." He lowered his hand to look her in the eyes.

Christine had no idea how to respond to that, but when she finally made to speak, a strange noise came from off to the side and when she turned around, she could see something that made her heart stop and all ease had vanished to be replaced with horror.

Despite that she was currently pinned underneath the chandelier, Lilian was still able to survive the chandelier crash but judging by her struggle and a noticeable redness that was escaping her mouth, it was clear that she did not have much time left.

"How–" Lilian wheezed as Erik quickly grabbed onto Christine's shoulder (not out of fear, but out of a need to protect if necessary) "–How did you–a rat off the streets–manage this?!"

Christine felt a slight tremor of fear, but she could feel her confidence take over. "I had what every good performer needs." She projected her voice loud enough for the fallen sultana to hear her. "I was able to distract my audience from reality as well and I had a little patronage to help me out." She held her hand up to display Erik's ring. "I wished for Erik's chains to be transferred onto you at the moment I sang a specific note and I wished chandelier to fall at a specific moment in my song. And seeing that the chandelier was endowed with that magic, it was able to be effective against you."

When Lilian realized what Christine meant, as well as what she wore on her finger, she grew enraged.

"You can't kill me!" Lilian snarled. "A jinn can't kill-"

"She didn't wish for you to die." Erik firmly cut her off. "Holes in the contract, remember?"

Lilian let out a wheeze that was crossed between a laugh. "You _really_ think that you have won?!" She raised her free arm out, which revealed that the chain attached to that limb had been severed in the crash, and she flicked a finger at Christine.

Christine sharply gasped she felt the bottle in her hand be pulled towards Lilian and for one moment it looked as if she was going to be dragged right over to the sultana by the way her arm was being pulled in that direction. Yet before Erik or anyone else could provide any sort of assistance to the singer, the bottle swiftly flew right out of Christine's grasp and right into Lilian's waiting hand.

"Give that back!" Erik snarled as he quickly transported himself off the stage and right beside Lilian, but before he could rip the bottle from her grasp, she tightened her hold on the precious object and shot a determined smirk at it as a dark aura escaped from her hand and suddenly a series of cracks formed upon the jewels.

What happened next was something unexpected of almost all but those who knew and quickly realized what Lilian intended to do–the moment the jewels cracked, Erik violently flinched and let out a sharp gasping sound as he collapsed to his knees. He would have fallen onto the floor completely had he not put a hand out, but his other hand gripped at his chest where his heart was.

"Erik?!" Christine fearfully yelled.

Lilian let out a dreadful laugh of triumph–blood spraying out of her mouth and all– before smashing the bottle upon the ground. It was not enough to shatter the bottle, but it was enough to cause cracks all over the black surface. In turn, the jinn let out a sharp cry of pain and doubled over as his grip over his heart tightened up.

Lilian chuckled but then coughed as more blood came out.

Erik growled as he looked up to face the sultana; his skin had resumed a little of the previous sickly pale yellow tone, but the once white mask now had deep cracks running upon it as if the mask were made of glass or porcelain.

"Heh, heh," Lilian let out a weak laugh. "My curse to you, Erik–one last–" She let out one final laugh as she dropped the bottle and the dark aura faded from her hand. "A curse upon you... a curse upon my family... and all–" She coughed one final time and collapsed onto the ground.

Zara—a former sultana of Persia, the first mistress, and self proclaimed Angel of Death—took her final breath and remained still upon the floor and underneath the chandelier.

Erik blankly stared at Zara with only a small twinge of remorse for his part in her own destruction, before glancing to the bottle, which was now as ruined as he was. His body felt heavy, like he could collapse at any moment, and he couldn't bear the thought of standing up or moving around too much. In some ways, it was worse than the torture that Zara put him through, though it was possibly because of the fact that she had robbed him of what hope he had regained. The hope that he didn't have when he was being tortured by her.

Thanks to her, his death was close at hand.

"Erik?" He heard Christine approach and kneel beside him. "Erik?" She gently put a hand on his shoulder and looked at him, but she froze when she saw how Zara's actions affected him.

Erik let out a deep sigh as he got himself into a more comfortable position, but he refused to look his student in the eye. Even if he wasn't actually dying at this moment, it was still a struggle to breathe. "She used the last of her power to try to destroy the bottle and kill me. But she only made just enough damage to the point that I can only grant one last wish. That alone will be enough to destroy the bottle for good–that is how fragile we both are."

Christine let out a gasp and felt her heart stop. "But what about the ring?" She asked. "Isn't there–?"

Erik shook his head. "No, you used all its power. It was just a build up of magic transferred into a separate object." He finally turned his head to try to face her, but she could only see the masked side and the weariness in his eye that couldn't be hidden. "I would rather that it would be you who will make that last wish, but before you do you must grant me a day or two to make amends to those I've wronged. Then you and I will meet on top of Apollo's Lyre at sunset." He quietly concluded as he slowly became engulfed in smoke. "Think carefully about what your last wish will be." He added before he vanished from her sight.

"Erik?" Christine felt him disappear from under her hand which then only touched the emptiness of the air before the smoke reentered the bottle.

She stared at the now ruined bottle before gently picking it up. "Erik?" She asked again as she realized what he meant and what Zara had almost done when she made one final revenge upon him.

"No," She shook her head. "No you can't—" She cradled the bottle to her chest as she felt herself about to cry. She bowed her head and shut her eyes as she whispered. "I can't have another person I care about die again."

Why did this all have to be so confusing for her? She once felt strong feelings for him, only for them to nearly vanish on that fateful night at Lady DuBois' house when he revealed how possessive he could be. Yet she still felt guilty for not stopping his imprisonment and she was glad to be able to have a second chance to try to make amends or at least try to have a better understanding about what was going on.

He admitted his faults and he let her go, didn't he? He at least tried to send her somewhere safe and give her a bit of his power so that she could have a new start, right?

She had feared for his safety along with the others, which made her wonder just how much she still cared about him. Now she was terrified over the idea of him dying, but it was much worse when she knew what she had intended to do if all went well.

"I heard what you said to Lilian." She continued. "I was ready to make your wish into a reality. I was ready to try to forgive you, if only I could hear your side of the story and understand you better."

She had only _just_ started reconsidering offering her last wish to him. Maybe she and Meg could have arranged something so that he could have what he desired, but now it was too late. There was no way that she could grant him the happiness he deserved, now that she was limited to one wish.

"Oh no." Meg clasped a hand over her mouth as she and the others watched Christine. They all had yet to learn what was wrong, but Meg heard enough to realize that Erik did not have much time left.

The doors to the theater opened and all eyes were diverted from the singer to Andre and Firmin, who glanced at them before they saw the only remainder of Zara's reign over the Opera House.

"WHAT IN _GOD'S NAME_ HAPPENED TO THE CHANDELIER?!" Andre demanded before glancing back up the stage. "DID ANY–?!"

"OH SHUT UP AND GO BACK TO YOUR PARTY, YOU STUFF SHIRTED IDIOTS!" Fantine unexpectedly yelled right back in a loud, booming voice that could have possibly overpowered the organ from earlier. "YOU AREN'T WELCOME RIGHT NOW, SO GO AWAY OR ELSE I'LL BREAK YOUR NOSES SO FAR INTO YOUR FACE THAT YOU'LL HEAD WILL EXPLODE IF YOU HAVE TO SNEEZE!"

The effect was priceless as both managers turned stalk white and retreated back out of the theater.

Fantine laughed in relief as she touched her throat while the others on stage (especially the de Chagny brothers) looked at her in shock. "God how I missed hearing myself talk!" She grinned as she delighted in her curse being broken at last.

* * *

 **Then again, some of the key moments might have been less of a surprise to those who guessed it at the first hints of it from way back when. I really wanted Christine to use the chandelier for her trick instead of the genie trick used in the Disney version since it fit her better and I wanted to avoid making the climax too similar to the one in the movie.**

 **Of course, I don't know how well one can pull off the Queen of the Night aria in full fortissimo, considering how hard it is known to be with those high notes.**

 **Speaking of which, the lyrics to the song Der Holle Rache (originally from The Magic Flute by W.A. Mozart) came from .**

 **So much changed for this chapter and Erik was supposed to appear at the start of the chapter instead of Auguste. Christine was supposed to figure out that he was trapped inside the staff, but I wanted her to at least try to be able to pull off her trick without Erik involved (since he would not have allowed it.) Also, the staff scenario has been used in a certain ABC TV Show from 2012-2013 involving fairy tales and Aladdin elements, so I can't say that the idea was mine to begin with. Also, that staff was meant to be a nod to the staff (or was it a staff?) in the graveyard scene from the musical, so there's the connection between that and Erik.**

 **Lilian was not an easy villain to write out, thanks to juggling several interpretations and adaptations of PotO and Aladdin. I would have wrote certain things regarding her differently, had I not been too worried about the readers who have excellent memory and knowledge about the sultana from the book.**

 **One more chapter to go and one last wish left...**


	18. The Last Wish

**And so here we are. It took a year, but its finally over.**

 **Although it was an idea I had for awhile, this story was of course born out of an impulse after seeing that wonderful musical the way it was meant to be seen (sort of). The upside of doing this story was to write out things I wanted to write for these characters that rarely ever happen (and thankfully it was because this is a story where magic can help make some of it happen.) and it did get quite addicting at times.**

 **I'd rather not talk too much about the downsides, though I admit that it was hard to keep in the later chapters because I wanted this story over with. That and trying to figure out how to write this while staying true to PotO's canon storyline without falling into anything that has been used too much. Darn you Erik for making it so hard to write out a proper ending and threatening to change what I already had in mind due to your obsessive nature! Darn you!**

* * *

 **I would like to personally thank those who reviewed this fan fic:**

 **Child of Music and Dreams: Thank you so much for your reviews. Your responses were very entertaining and especially the one for chapter 16 since I couldn't say the direct answer at the time.)**

 **draegon-fire: Thank you very much- I hope that your guess turns out the way you imagined it back in chapter 13. I really liked that thing about the Seine River going to the lake and I hope that is true in real life.)**

 **Rurouni's Bee: I was glad to provide a different adaptation for you and others to read. Hopefully we will have other fics in the future that also tackle other well known tales. Thanks for reading my story.**

 **GRANDMA PAULA: Thank you for reviewing. I hope this fic was a good read until the very end for you.**

 **Guest (the one who reviewed chapter 7 and 8) Thank you and hopefully there was plenty of fan service to go around. Not just through seeing a shirtless Erik (even if he wasn't super buff or anything like that... though that would have been amusing.)**

 **whatanauthorsgonnado: Christine spine was made of titanium for most of the story and that was amazing! I'm sorry if you didn't get the snappy musical number that you wanted, but I will provide the start of a mental image of Erik singing 'Friend like me' and a PotO version of 'Prince Ali' to make up for it. Thank you so much :)**

 **Sweet Roisin Dubh: It was a lot of fun making Erik a jinn and letting him have fun with it and getting away with things he couldn't normally do, while still being a little dark now and then. Even if he could have easily fit the role of Aladdin, there couldn't have been anyone else to fit the role of the genie. (Though I'm imagining a very cheerful Meg as the genie if that HAD been the case.) Thank you for reading this story.**

 **Guest (chapter 4): I can't believe how far I took this concept and despite its hardships, there were moments that I enjoyed writing out thanks to the logic that could come in effect by the concept itself. Hopefully this last chapter will have made the wait worth it all and I thank you for sticking to the end if you are reading this.**

 **Guest (chapter 1, August 27, 2015): I was able to finish and now I can die as a happy dog! (Just kidding–I think my attempt at a joke didn't go so well.) Thank you and hopefully we will see other interesting adaptions that haven't been done yet by other authors.**

 **Guest (chapter 1 August 26, 2015): I'll try not to make my stories have titles that have already been used, out of respect to the other others. (That can get so confusing, can it?) Thank you for reading. :)**

 **CatarinaK: To my very first reviewer, it was an honor to combine Aladdin with PotO. It was not easy, but I hope I was able to create a decent adaptation and I believe that Christine's father might truly be proud of his girl somewhere in the heavens when its all over.**

* * *

 **Double shout out to the one who offered to be my beta reader for a handful of chapters: whatanauthorsgottado**

 **I appreciate the help you gave me very much. You are a great editor and I learned a little more about editing (and a few other thinks) thanks to you. I don't know why I hadn't heard from you after a certain point and it must have been for a reason, but I hope that all is well for you and that you have been able to accomplish much since the last time you helped me. Again, I thank you very much for the help you gave me.**

* * *

 **To you, the reader of this fan fic: if you have been reading this and patiently waiting for all of the chapters to be released, I thank you and I hope that this final chapter made it all worth it in the end. If you were lucky to not have waited during the time the chapters came out and you were able to get through this in less than a year, I still thank you and I hope that this final chapter will have made reading this fic from start to finish worth it.**

* * *

 **Chapter 18: The Last Wish**

The memory of what happened after Lilian told her tale had been wiped away from the minds of almost all the inhabitants and guest of the Opera, which made it hard to explain or understand why it was suddenly four days later after the Masquerade ball. The most sensible excuse was that perhaps the gas in the new gas lighting had somehow leaked out, while others blamed the drinks that had been served (perhaps someone tampered with them as a sort of prank).

The Palais Garnier was to be closed down for a few more days since the managers had to allow the workers to remove the fallen chandelier from the theater. They also had to deal with the dead body that had been found underneath and try to keep it a secret from the public. Those who had been found in the theater claimed that it had been an accident but they kept the real truth a secret for everyone's sakes.

The following performances of _Hannibal_ had to be canceled, but the rehearsals and preparations for _Il Muto_ continued. The increase of free time in the night felt unfamiliar for most but they were happy to accept it when they could and it was on the following early evening that Sorelli made her final farewells to the Opera and its inhabitants before she could leave. Strangely enough, she had already hired a maid to take with her and it happened to be the maid who used to work for Mademoiselle Blanchette.

"I think it would be best if I left France, so I am grateful for the job offer." Fantine told Christine and Meg. "After what she did to me, I-" She took a deep breath and shook her head. "I just can't be here anymore. Too many bad memories are tied to this place and I don't know if anyone remembers the truth about me."

"I apologize for my involvement for all the wrong I did to you and everyone else." Fantine continued. "That witch took advantage of both me and the real Lilian. I should have trusted my instincts when I had the chance and many people died as a consequence."

"There is nothing to apologize." Christine placed a friendly hand on Fantine's shoulder and smiled. "You made it very clear to me when I first met you. Its just a shame that there wasn't enough time to get to know you better."

Fantine laughed a little. "You're almost too good Daae. There's not enough people like you or your friends–" She noticed something off the the side and Christine realized that she was looking at Laurette Blanchette, who seemed to be in a mix of both hope and fear at the sight of her sister's maid.

"You might as well try to talk with her." Christine encouraged. "Raoul told me everything, so perhaps she deserves to know what happened."

Fantine gave a small nod and walked over to the young woman.

"I have a good feeling about her." Sorelli said as she approached Christine and Meg. "I would like to have someone who isn't afraid to speak her mind and I rather enjoy how foul her mouth can get."

"What about Philippe?" Meg asked. "He seemed to care very much about you when you and the others-"

"I'm not going to stay just for him." Sorelli replied with a reassurance in her eyes. "Too many years have been wasted on him and I would rather find someone who doesn't want to play games with me. Maybe I'll settle down someday and maybe I won't, but I need to move on with my life and do something new for a change. I'd advise you both to consider that- trust your heart and don't simply settle on anything that comes your way. You deserve what is best for you."

One of the ballerina's called to Sorelli and she gave the two a wave before she walked over to her.

"Maybe there's more to her than she wants to let on." Meg mused as Christine began to ponder over what Sorelli told them.

Of course it would not be long before Madame Giry appeared to give her farewells to the former Prima Ballerina and the exchanges lasted for quite sometime. It was only afterwards that she walked towards the girls and gave them a melancholic smile before turning to Meg. "Could you come with me for a moment? There is a private matter that needs to be attended to and it concerns us."

"Oh?" Meg gave Christine a confused look before she followed after her mother who lead her away from the area. Just as Christine began to suspect why Madame Giry was taking her daughter away, a voice interrupted her thoughts.

"Christine?" She turned around to see Raoul standing behind her with a smile. "Would you mind if I speak with you in private?"

* * *

"I'm glad to see that you and the others seem to be alright after..." Raoul hesitated "well, you know."

"I think the others are alright. I'm glad that its finally over." Christine admitted. "It was scary at first and I was afraid for my life. I didn't know if I would survive, but I knew what was at stake and I had to keep going."

"I'm afraid to know exactly what else you had to endure during that time, but you were a lot braver about it then what most men have to face in my times at sea. I'm sure your father would have been proud of you."

Christine smiled before she could say what was on her mind. "I've been considering your offer ever since you brought it up and I'm afraid I can't accept it. I would love to leave and go to the other countries, but my career as a lead soprano is still beginning. I still need to prove that I have what it takes before I can perform elsewhere."

"And besides," She continued "I think you shouldn't just throw away a promising career for my sake. I know you don't have much time left in Paris, but you could always write to me and we can stay in touch."

"And what about us?" Raoul asked. "Do you see a future of us together?"

Christine took a moment to collect her thoughts. "Its possible but I'm not so sure at this time." She admitted. "I cherish our friendship and the past we shared together. A part of me loves and cares about you, but I'm not sure if what I feel now could ever be the same as what you feel towards me."

Raoul reassuringly put a hand on her shoulder. "As long as you are happy and safe, then I will not interfere." He promised her. "I do care for your wellbeing and I will always be there for you when you need me. Don't be afraid to write to me if something ever happens."

Christine clasped her hand over Raoul's and squeezed it as she gave him an appreciative smile. "Thank you Raoul."

* * *

Meg found herself in her mother's office and she silently observed who else was in the room beside herself and her mother.

Her mother currently held Erik's bottle while the jinn himself sat upon the seat that had been dragged from behind her desk and was now facing mother and daughter. He had not recovered from the destruction that Lilian had inflicted upon him as he still looked deathly ill and it almost looked like he could barely move. Nadir and Darius silently watched on from a corner, but Erik turned and softly told them "Please leave us be Nadir. This concerns the Giry family and myself."

"I will respect your wishes, but we shall still be close by." Nadir cautioned before he and Darius left the room.

Erik let out a weak snort as soon as they had closed the door behind them. "I can barely do much in this state, so what is there to be concerned about?" He finally glanced up at the mother and daughter as he took out three large envelopes, each one appearing as if they were about ready to burst from the contents within.

"I didn't allow Meg or Christine to let you know that I was here because I knew you would most likely still hate me for what I did to Jules." Erik began and Meg could detect a little fear and uncertainty in his voice. "I didn't want Meg to know what I did to her own father, or the circumstances that lead to his death."

Madame Giry remained stoic and showed no emotion.

"You heard my confession to Lilian so there is no point in saying yet again that I will always regret taking for granted the friends that I was fortunate enough to find." Erik continued. "There is no power on earth that can correct what I had done and there is no deed I could do that could make up for it. However, I promised him that when he would set me free, then I would one day come back and aid your family in anyway I can as repayment. There is little I can do in my current condition and both of you were able to accomplish much without my interference-"

"–Except take my daughter several countries over and give me a horrible fright more often than not." The madame cut in and Meg bit her lip in regret for her own part in that incident.

"All I can do now is this," Erik held the envelopes out. "My death is certain and I have no use for material possessions anymore. All of my wages from this Opera has been divided into thirds–one is to give to Christine, the other for the dancers and chorus girls who suffered during their imprisonment, and the last is for the both of you to do as you please. The rest of the wealth I gained over the years is in one of the banks and waiting for someone to take it out under an alias I used and can provide to you."

Meg looked at Madame Giry, but the woman seemed unmoved by this offer. She glanced back to Erik and saw that he could see this too. She came to a realization that she had to end the strife between her mother and Erik somehow, so that they could both find some sort of peace.

"What you say is true, Erik." Meg finally spoke as she looked him in the eye. "I personally wish that you told me the true nature of your relationship to my parents, but I understand why you didn't. As scary as it was, having a secret friend was enjoyable and it helped give some fun in our lives. I would have given it all up if it meant anyone dear to me got hurt, but I can see that you regret the things you did." Meg quickly added. "And I will genuinely miss you when you are gone and-"

She finally smiled. "Could you tell me how you and my father met? I want to hear it from you this time. As a friend, that's all I ask in return."

Erik stared in wonder as Madame Giry gave her daughter a curious, surprised glance. The jinn then smiled as he began to recall the events as best as he could to rely to the young lady.

"Your father was a better man than any king or nobleman that I ever knew, with the riches that they could never possess." He started. "He found me in the town he was working at near some farmlands. His fear was nothing out of the ordinary when he discovered the truth, but it was amusing that he thought the bottle was an ordinary wine bottle and he was going to check to see what type was inside."

Meg let out a chuckle.

Erik continued to tell Meg everything–about what wishes Jules considered, how he liked to talk about the buildings he worked on, the family he loved, what kind of discussions and arguments they both had, and the list went on. Unknown to them, Madame Giry's hard exterior had cracked and she had to turn away to prevent either of them from seeing her small smile or the tears that were threatening to escape her eyes.

Meg truly took after her father and Antoinette was grateful for it.

* * *

It was much later when the Girys were finally able to part ways with Erik and they were accompanied by Nadir and Darius when Christine came to meet them.

"So, has everything been... you know." Christine tried to ask but it was hard to do so, knowing that difficult tie between Erik and the Girys and that they might not ever see him again if that was in the hand of fate itself.

"It's alright." Meg revealed the bottle and held it out to Christine. "We were able to make peace with him."

Christine clasped her hands on the bottle, but did not immediately take it away. "So this might be it then." She stated. "I have to choose what happens to him."

"Are you sure that he will not try to trick you, Mademoiselle Daae?" Nadir asked cautiously. "I want you to feel safe when you are alone with him."

"I believe he will not do any harm to me." Christine replied as she took the bottle away from Meg. "Not this time and possibly never again. Besides, I am the one who controls him now, correct?"

"Remember Mademoiselle that we must never underestimate what we do not understand or what we at least think we understand. Not even the worlds that are unseen and the people we know should be taken so lightly." Nadir cautioned.

"I shall keep that in mind." Christine nodded before turning to Meg. The girl smiled at her best friend and gave her a hug of comfort and reassurance. "I know you'll make the right choice." She whispered before letting go of Christine and hurried off to join the others. Christine herself walked away and began her journey to the rooftop and left the others behind.

"You raised two fine, brave young women, Antoinette." Nadir spoke to Madame Giry with pride. "Perhaps their resolve came from you."

"I would not wholly credit myself to Christine's development as a woman, but I am certainly proud of both her and my daughter." Madame Giry warmly replied. "I see all of them as girls who should aspire to become perfect in their craft, but it makes me proud when they are on the right path to becoming who they should be."

As Meg hurried down the steps and tried not to think of what would most likely happen on top of the Opera, she found herself colliding into someone. She stumbled back and made to apologize, but briefly fumbled with her words when she recognized who it was.

"Oh my-Monsi- I mean Auguste!" Meg flushed with embarrassment as the noblemen patiently waited for her to collect herself. "How funny it is that I should run into you up here!"

"I was with the de Chagny brothers for Sorelli's farewell party, but I was hoping to run into you." Auguste smiled. "I did not expect that my wish would be granted quite literally, but I accept it."

Meg felt her blush even more at this and let out a laugh. "It is quite funny, but also a charming notion. I didn't think I would ever see you again after all that happened."

"Being an overgrown cat was among the traumatizing incidents, but thankfully I left the experience with my pride still intact." Auguste smirked. "I can say that I did not try to lick myself once, as I had no desire to have so much as a piece of fur stuck in my teeth."

Meg let out a laugh and the future baron smiled and let out a chuckle over his previous misfortune as well as the mental image he must have accidentally given the dancer. When she finally calmed down, he explained his reason for being there.

"Mademoiselle Meg, you are a very remarkable woman and I would very much like to learn more about you. Would you be interested in spending sometime together in the city when your schedule allows it?"

Meg swore that she felt her heart skip a beat, but she masked this and she smiled and replied "I would like that very much Auguste."

* * *

Once upon a time, Christine sat up here several times and contemplated about her fate either through thought or through temptations that she never dared act upon and never would do so here on this rooftop ever again.

The sky was a composition of blues, purples, reds, oranges and yellows and the sun was on the verge of setting beyond the outline of the great city of Paris. It was the kind of sky that would fill one with peace and as Christine took a deep breath and closed her eyes, she felt as if she were the only one in the world. In that moment, she could feel serenity calm the frantic nerves and beating heart that worsened as she made her ascension to this point. Rather than being a great singer, a slayer of a sadistic-misguided sultana, a judge of fate, or a holder of great power, she was now simply just Christine. She was in the role she was meant to play and despite the days where she wished she wasn't that person, she was happy to be her tonight.

"Thats the very dress you wore when I decided that this day had to come." She didn't have to open her eyes and look to see who it was; She already knew. "Maybe its another unusual sign of fate for the both of us."

Erik sat at the base of the Apollo statue where he watched over Christine and didn't resume talking until she finally turned around. He still looked sickly and pale and his half mask still bore the deep cracks that reminded her of how little time he had left.

"If there is truly such a thing as fate Christine, then I would believe that it had to bring us together for a reason. It wouldn't matter which lifetime or which universe–there is too much about us that drew us to each other. I don't know what that means in this life, but I am glad that I was at least able to help you accomplish your deepest desires. It has been a great honor and it has been more rewarding than most of the many things I have ever done in my life."

"And it is something that I will always thank you for." Christine replied. "There are so many others who should have you as a teacher–so many who have yet to be visited by an Angel of Music."

"Unfortunately we both know why that could never be." Erik answered. "Not just because of my fate, but because of who I am, both inside and out."

Christine held the bottle up and was about to reply when she noticed the whiteness of the jewels upon its surface. "I don't understand-I made it so someone would die in order to save the others, and yet the jewels are still white."

"They are because deep down you are pure in heart." Erik told her. "It senses what kind of person you are, and it is true that we are all just varying shades of gray- we cannot always be good, but it makes life more interesting that way. I would rather live in a world with sin than without, if only to better understand the human nature."

Christine stared at the bottle for just a little longer as she thought about this. Perhaps no one could truly be pure of heart and she herself had to learn this the hard way. It made her think back to Erik and wonder who he really was. He himself seemed to be placed in his own moral alignment, but what could have caused this in the first place?

"I don't believe you are entirely evil Erik, but I don't know why you did the things you had done." She looked up and finally asked "You aren't really a jinn, are you?"

"I am now, but I was once human like you." Erik admitted. "My parents were human and I lived like a human- or at least as best as I could in a world that rejected me from the moment I was born and it was all because of this," He carefully took off his false hair and mask as if the action was as casual as breathing and he exposed the ruined side of his face to her once more.

"In my youth I traveled and learned many skills and talents while also working for various performers, architects, and, as you already learned, those who had need of an assassin. It wasn't something that gave me pleasure and this, combined with the way the world treated me, made me blind and unfeeling towards the sufferings of those less fortunate than my own."

"The Shah of Persia proved to me that the world of magic and jinns did indeed exist when I was asked to work for him. He showed me through tales and demonstrations of simple spells and potions that a human could easily create if they had the means to make them. It took me almost an entire week to come to terms with what exactly I had seen and try to find more logical explanations until I was forced to conclude that I had indeed seen true magic. He promised that he would have my face repaired to the way it was meant to be and look like an ordinary man through those same means and in my desperate haste, I accepted the commission. I worked many a sleepless nights to ensure that the project would not only work the way I wanted it to work, but so that I could also be granted that reward. Time was either an illusion or a cruel friend and even the distraction of life in Persia and the Royal court could barely keep me from my goals.

"Then, when I completed the prison, he–" His hands turned to fists and he pressed them to his forehead as his tone turned to an anger that was barely contained

"–He tricked me. He saw that my talents were too useful for anyone else to have and he saw my mortal lifespan as something that was far too short for the Royal Family's lineage to take advantage of so he sent me to a chamber where they set up a number of spells and what would soon become my prison. Before I knew it, I found myself in chains and spells before I was then trapped in the very thing you now hold in your hands. Within moments I lost what freedom I had and became even less of a man then I already was; I was unable to age, unable to die, and unable to do whatever I pleased or even grant my own desires."

He dropped his hands. "Ever since then, I tried to hide who I really was and it was all an act until I met those who deserved my help. I had to rely on cunning and trickery to get away from Persia many times with each turn being more difficult than the last. I took advantage of those who did not word their wishes carefully enough and those that deserved better than what life had given them were given more caution, but rarely were they given full compassion.

I did regard Jules and Antoinette Giry as my friends and I regret what I did to Jules. I was so sure that they would be the ones to grant my wishes, but when they were scared of what they saw, I was sure that there really was no one on earth that could ever see me as anything but a living corpse.

When I met you, I saw a kindred soul and I felt more human in my time with you and Meg than when I was free. In time I allowed myself to become open to others once more and I entered a sort of dream in which I felt that anything could be possible, in which I could have the childhood I once desired while at the same time I could live out my desires as an adult.

It was your own sufferings and anger at those who could not see you for who you truly were that made me realize not only how alike we were, but later that there were others who were not as fortunate as I was. I was unsure that you could be able to look upon me without any fear, but it was then that I knew that I had to get over my fear and that maybe you could be able to see my true face. Maybe you were not like the others and maybe you wouldn't turn away out of fear."

"What I told you when we danced on that intended night was my true feelings. I do love you Christine–I would give anything to have a normal life and do simple things like take walks by the Seine or watch you at the cafe without any disguise. I want to support your career as a patron who can go and speak to the others and praise your accomplishments. I want the life that so many take for granted and I wanted to start it at the very instant I could be free.

But I lost sight of the fact that you were a person who had actual feelings and desires that may not have been similar to mine." Erik confessed. "It never occurred to me that you might not have seen me as more than a teacher and granter of wishes. I gave you guidance, but I was too controlling and jealous of the idea that another was interested in you. I was selfish, I took much for granted once more and instead of thinking rationally, I let my anger and jealousy get the best of me and it endangered you. When I realized how wrong I was, it was too late and I had to manipulate the events so that not only I could keep you away from Zara and give you some of my power to start a new life, but I had to let you go. I had to finally accept that you might not love me and that was almost harder to accept than the fact that my deepest wishes would not become a reality."

"Your face doesn't scare me." Christine admitted. "I suspected that there had to be a reason you were wearing a mask and I did see a glimpse of what you were trying to hide at one point, which only made me more curious. It was true that I was shocked at the answer, but it was nothing compared to how you acted towards Raoul and I. That anger you displayed terrified me and I was afraid of what could happen if I allowed it to continue."

"And because of that, I deserve this fate." Erik replied. "I can either be free but return to a life of complete isolation or die as a complete human. There is only one last wish I can grant and I want you to be the one to make it. Its my final way of making amends for all you had to go through, but I want this to end on peaceful terms. I want you to know that I cherished what you gave to me and I want you to live the life you want, without fearing for it.

I love you Christine. I do not expect you to reply because I only wanted you to know before it was too late and before I could set you free; That is how much you mean to me. And so I dare to ask you this, so I could finally have closure on what little there is left to my life–if I had not revealed my darker nature and things went the way they did, would you have grown to love me?"

Christine hesitated before she could make her answer known.

"When you confessed to me what your feelings were on that night, I was confused. I could see that possible future of us together, and yet I felt as if you were keeping so much from me and it made it hard to trust you. Meg and everyone else who didn't know the truth assumed you had feelings for me and back then the idea seemed wonderful but also intimidating because I thought you wouldn't want a mere mortal chorus girl. When I almost kissed you–" She blushed at the memory "–I was curious and yet it felt right because I desired that sort of contact with you."

"You did scare me away when you turned on me and Raoul and I was afraid when you seemed to see me as a mere prize to win. Yet I regretted never having a say in your fate when Meg sealed you away–I could have tried to prevent that from happening.

When Lil–When Zara revealed the truth, a lot of things made sense to me. When she made you send me away, I did fear for your life and what she could have done to you as well as the others. When I saw you alive, it gave me relief but I was still worried for you, and I was so afraid and so guilty when my actions lead to this point." She gestured to the cracked bottle.

"If things went the way we both wanted, then I would be willing to give you a second chance because you not only changed for the better, but because you were willing to let me go and put my safety first." Christine confessed. "Because I think it is possible that you can still be the person you want to be, though I would not want to try to change you to become a better person for my sake. That would be something you would have to do for yourself. If we couldn't be able to have anything more than friendship, then I would still wish you the happiness you should have."

"But it would not be enough if you were giving me a second chance out of pity." Erik shook his head as he got up, but looked off to the side and stared off into the distance as he became lost in his thoughts. "You don't love me–I understand that from what you told me. But you voiced your opinion so I respect you for that."

Christine made to speak, but she realized that words alone would not work this time. She walked over towards Erik and carefully set the bottle down by the base of the statue before going to face him. Whatever it was that she felt, there was one thing that she could not deny to herself and it was time to face it before she had to let fate help guide her hand.

She gently moved Erik so that he could face her and before he could say or do anything she reached up as high as her feet could allow her to, her arms wrapped under him and pressed herself against his chest before she pressed her lips against Erik's.

It took a solid moment for Erik to realize what was happening as his arms moved out and his eyes widened in shock. When it did, he was so overwhelmed by the willing intimacy, the comfort, and the meaning behind this long desired, yet also foreign gesture he felt himself grow weak and unable to respond until he collapsed to his knees and Christine was forced to follow suit as she slowly released the kiss and rested her head against his shoulder as she held onto him.

Erik could do nothing but stare into the sky as he felt so much emotion all at once. Happiness, sorrow, surprise–was the action all in his head? No it was real as he could still feel the ghost of the kiss on his twisted mouth, which sent a strange feeling through his body, from his head to his outstretched fingers. He could still feel her arms comforting him as she held onto him with an affection that he had craved for most of his miserable life.

She had kissed him without being repulsed; Without dying from his touch.

He could feel himself beginning to cry and he wanted to be selfish and just have one more kiss before he was freed from the earth. He slowly looked down at this wonderful, beautiful creature and gently lifted her head so that he could have one last, proper kiss. This time he recalled enough to know what he should do and deepened the kiss when her response was more passionate than her previous kiss and it felt more wonderful. One of his arms pressed firmly against her back while his free hand caressed her face before his fingers slowly wove into her hair and cradled the back of her head.

She responded with a shudder that was more out of a thrill than repulsion and her hands slowly moved to caress both sides of his face. Each hand savored the senses of touching each side, with the left hand especially enjoying the rough and uneven textures, the unnatural grooves and protrusions, and twists and indents. He did not try to move that hand away and instead pressed his hand over hers as he found to his surprise that he enjoyed this sort of caressing.

For a few seconds more the second kiss lasted with this joyous intimacy until both needed that moment to stop and pull away, knowing what had to be done. When Christine looked into Erik's eyes, she could see that longing for more and yet there was a serenity in them as he gently pressed his hand against her face for one last time.

"Christine... Thank you."

Christine smiled and nodded her head as she pulled back away to get to the bottle. Erik's hold loosened, yet he retained his touch upon for for as long as he could until she was finally out of his reach and all he could do was touch the empty air.

Christine picked up the bottle and gently held onto it as she locked eyes with Erik as he slowly rose up back onto his feet. She carefully thought her last wish over, for she knew that these words would be among the most important she ever had to say in her life, and when she knew that she had them in the right order, she spoke out her final wish with all the confidence that came from years of being a performer as she raised the bottle towards Erik:

"Erik I wish for your freedom from your duties as a jinn so that you may become the human man that you have wished that you could be on the outside."

Erik's serenity vanished into complete shock and utter confusion. "Christine?!"

Before either of them could do anything, gray smoke and sparks like those from a firework escaped from the bottle and went towards Erik before it encircled him. Christine could only watch in amazement until she felt a strange movement in her hands. She looked to see that the bottle in her hands was cracking as the light in the jewels shinned so brightly and so beautifully that they could have put the light of the stars to shame.

Rapidly the cracks grew and formed spider web like patterns across the bottle and the jewels reached their brightest before the light flooded into the cracks and the bottle finally shattered into several pieces. For one second the shards remained frozen in place at the moment when the bottle shattered into a small burst of fragments before they gradually disintegrated into dust and vanished out of existence.

Christine looked up from her now empty hands towards the smoke and sparks, which finally shot right into the sky and combined as one before briefly exploding outward like a firework. Gradually this last bit of magic also faded away into nothingness, but she didn't watch as her eyes quickly drifted down to the figure who had almost stumbled over when the smoke left him and he was still trying to regain his senses.

For Erik, the experience felt so strange as if he was now grounded back to the earth instead of feeling an unusual weightlessness. He had felt as if something was drained from him and he felt as if his blood had coursed and crashed through his veins like a violent river before it finally slowed back down. He had felt as if all his senses had been dulled down while the extra senses he had been granted had died out. For one moment he was so sure that he had been freed from the earthly realm and sent into a higher cosmos before he realized that he was still on the rooftop and he could see all of Paris and the angel that stood before his very eyes.

Slowly he looked at himself–gone was the dark, extravagant robe that showed his status as a jinn. This dark dark grey evening dress–suit, white shirt, and a dark blue vest belonged to that of a normal man and was nothing like he would have normally worn; Gone was the black that helped him blend into the darkness. He felt his heart rate increase as he quickly pulled his shirt open somewhat to look and try to find the markings that prevented him from granting a certain set of wishes but he found that they had vanished from his skin.

"I–" He couldn't believe it. "I'm free." He looked up at Christine, amazed that she was willing to free him at long last, just as she had promised.

But he was almost afraid to know if anything else had changed or not. He could feel that his mask had returned onto his face and he could feel the false hair covering his head, but what if what was underneath it all hadn't changed?

Christine slowly walked over towards him and reached out towards his face. Then came the final shock of that very night that was also the first as part of his new life as a free man– there was no porcelain to keep her hand from his face, nor the heat or pressure from her touch. He could actually feel her hand against that side of his face–he could feel flesh against flesh. It was only when he grabbed her hand that he could fully confirm just what he was feeling and just how carefully Christine had worded her wish.

The illusion was no longer an illusion but now a physical part of him.

"Welcome to the human world, Erik." She smiled. "Its better than any play you could see on stage."

* * *

 **A year later**

It was to be Christine Daae's final performance at the Paris Opera House before she would go to Austria to perform at the country's most famous opera house. Many members of Parisian society fought tooth and nail to watch and listen while they still had a chance, for Christine's pure voice was a very cherished sound in the city and the house had been completely sold out.

Christine was the finale to a series of other performers and it was almost fitting that the one who performed before her would be her best friend, who was known to astound Paris with her grace and energy when she danced on the stage. Meg Giry had rightfully earned her title as prima ballerina and they could all see it by the way she moved with the music as if she were a part of it and she could match the tempo and emotions invoked in each piece. As of now, her colorful costume fluttered and spun around with her as she danced her solo across the stage while the music drew to a close.

Meg Giry finally posed at the very end of the music and was greeted by a very enthusiastic and very pleased crowd. She maintained her grace in her pose, but she let out a grin of almost childlike delight that made her even more charming on-stage. She may have been the daughter of the stern Madame Giry, but she was still entirely her own person when she danced and that was why many adored her.

She gracefully bowed before the audience and glanced to a certain box, where the Baron Auguste Castelot–de–Barbezac gave her an almost thunderous applause of his own. She coyly batted her eyes at him and gave him a quick, meaningful grin before anyone else could notice and before she could finish and slowly dance back away to the side of the stage.

Once she was behind the curtains, Meg practically flew away towards the side where the other performers clapped for her. She beamed at all of them and waved before turning to face Christine, who wore a very elegant dress (that she could _finally_ be able to buy without worrying too much over how much money was left over) for her final performance.

"That was incredible, Meg." Christine greeted as her fingers held onto the silver locket around her neck. "I'm going to miss watching you perform when I am gone. I doubt the other dancers will be as enjoyable to watch as you are."

"Thank you Christine." Meg gave her friend a reassuring squeeze on both arms for good luck. "I'm going to miss seeing you perform too, but at least both our dreams came true. Just promise me that you'll think of us once in awhile and write as often as you can."

"I will." Christine promised as she quickly hugged Meg before walking towards the curtains and emerged out onto the stage. She was greeted by many an excited audience members cheers and clapping and she smiled modestly at them before she finally found her placement on the stage.

"I have done it father." She whispered as she clutched at her silver locket one last time–that very important object that helped to guide her to her destiny and remind her of the person she was proud to be. She gazed out towards the audience though her eyes briefly lingered on a particular box where someone very important to her was watching. "I'm finally where I want to be."

Wishes are sometimes hard to grant and do not always turn out the way you want them to. Unless you were born in the right circumstances, there are no short-cuts in life as it all depends on one approaches those wishes that they have. Christine considered herself very lucky that she had been granted the right sort of her magic in her life and despite the hardships she had to face to get to this point, she knew that it was worth it all in the end.

The music played and Christine began to sing the first of the last songs that she would possibly ever perform on this stage, unless fate guided her back. But she knew in her heart that this stage, with the people who she had worked with or had come to cherish as a family, would still be a part of her.

And so the diamond that had emerged from the rough shone in all its dazzling splendor for all to witness.

 **The End**

 **(Whether or not Christine ended up with Erik is for you to decide.)**


End file.
